


Patient: Kennedy

by Elillierose



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: BS Science, Blood, Fainting, Friendship, Gen, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Medical Experimentation, Needles, Night Terrors, Sci-Fi, Science Experiments, Science Fiction, Sick Character, Sickfic, Suspense, Torture, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-11-01 09:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elillierose/pseuds/Elillierose
Summary: Sent to investigate missing persons cases in a remote town, Leon quickly discovers the dark secrets that are really going on right under their noses. Becoming the test subject for a self-important scientist, Leon must find away out. But, that's easier said than done when he's subjected to various, altered strains. There's not choice but to rely on outside help.





	1. Drowsiness

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi) (aka KageroAssassin - Tumblr)
> 
> Tumblr: [Tumblr](http://elillierose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Consultant: [Untranquilizing](https://untranquilizing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Ok, so I just recently got INTO Resident Evil, so I am an expert by no means, but I'n trying my best with research and consultants on this, etc. XD Basically, I'm learning it all at once, so please bear with me. Things will be relatively vague for that reason. Hopefully later stories, I can get more detailed with the viruses.
> 
> Anyway, this may be a bit ambitious for my first RE fic, but hey, go big or go home, amiright? XD

Leon twisted his upper body slightly, just enough to avoid bumping into a passerby. He went with the flow of the river of people, reaching up to readjust his hood. A bead of sweat tickled the back of his neck as he tried to ignore the stifling heat. He knew it was supposed to be rather hot on this mission, but this? This was about pushing it. Turning in avoidance once more, he made sure his gaze never wandered from the figure mere yards away. And yet, despite the short distance, Leon found himself struggling not to lose sight.

"Dammit," he muttered just as his pursuit was hindered by the man making a sharp, unexpected turn.

He sped up, but not quite enough to draw any suspicion, but enough to become a little less wary of his surroundings as he brushed lightly against a person here and there. It's been nearly a week, and this was the closest thing he's gotten to a lead since. There wasn't a chance he was willing to let it slip through his fingers so easily.

And yet, there he now stood, facing an empty, dead ended alley. He huffed out a heavy breath and brushed a few damp strands from his forehead as a muttered 'great' escaped. Back now pressed against the stone building, Leon finally allowed himself to push the hood of his cloak back. He leaned his head back in order to get a look at the sky.

Perfect.

Another day ending and nothing to really show for it. He inwardly groaned, already knowing his supervisor wasn't exactly going to be pleased with his progress. A part of him was starting to wonder if there was anything to any of these rumors: reports of missing people and shady activity going on in the late hours. All of it was beginning to sound like a bit of a stretch, paranoia onset by these last several years. Now any word of anything out of the ordinary, and it was instantly somehow connected to Umbrella or viruses.

Leon scoffed and pushed himself away from the wall, replacing his hood before anyone could catch sight of him. Despite his blossoming doubts, every part of him still wanted to play it safe should he be recognized.

Another deep inhale, and with a slower pace, he began making his way back towards the inn, the place that had been his temporary 'home' for these past six or so days. Just thinking about sleeping on that poor excuse of a bed sent a small aching pang up his spine. Or perhaps that was from chasing so many shadows lately; it was difficult to be sure. All he cared about, though, was the fact that it wouldn't be too much longer before this mission was declared a flop and he'd be able to leave this godforsaken place.

He could only hope this possible last night here would be tolerable, but alas, upon his return, Leon found the lobby of the Inn rather packed. More so than the other nights. It was loud, more dense than the evening streets and the stench of alcohol burned his nostrils. There was nothing more he desired than to make a straight shot to his room. However, as chances would have it, something piqued his interest out of the corner of his eye.

He froze only for a split second before he pulled himself out of his momentary shock. Quickly, his back turned to the man seated in the corner of the room, he set himself at the bar and kept his head lowered. Occasionally, he let his eyes flicker to make sure the man was still there. Even without seeing any discernible features, he knew this was the same person he was following earlier. He had the same demeanor; the same air about him.

For the last few days, he's seen this same man stalking around the streets at night. And, like himself, this guy never allowed his identity to be seen. He traversed the town in secrecy. The man was looking around, his attention darting from the entrance, to the windows, and to various people seated nearby. Leon, unknowingly, held his breath, right hand curled into a loose fist on the bar's surface.

"What can I get ya?"

The question came so suddenly, it snapped the man out of his concentration, causing a small jolt to wrack his shoulders. Without a word, Leon raised a single hand. But, of course, that wasn't enough to do the trick.

With a light-hearted sigh, the bartender leaned forward, both palms flat against the wood. "Sorry, but these seats are for paying customers only. So, you're either going to have to buy a drink, or I'm going to have to ask you to move to one of the tables."

Letting out an annoyed exhale of his own, Leon shuffled hastily with his pockets and grabbed the first coins his hand came in contact with. Slapping it on the counter, he simply uttered, "Just whatever this can buy then."

Not a minute later, a glass was set next to his hand, containing only what he could assume was some sort of ale. It was hard to tell, all the smells in this place were starting to mix together. He pulled the glass closer and took a small sniff, and just as he expected, it reeked of cheap alcohol. If there were such a thing as below the shelf, he was sure this was it. Pressing his lips into a straight line for a mere second, he raised the glass to take a sip. Almost instantly, he wanted to spit it out; if it weren't for the fact that that would have brought tremendous amounts of attention his way, he definitely would have.

Fighting the urge to just completely reject everything about the beverage, Leon focused on the man in the corner as he took meager sips of the beverage. He wasn't even aware of how much he consumed until he felt a slight tingle in his fingertips. There only appeared to be about a fourth of the substance left, and still, the man hasn't moved, nor has anyone else arrived to join him. Perhaps he was right to begin with and this man had nothing to do with anything. Was he really suspecting this guy just because he was stalking around? He himself was doing the exact same thing, after all. Other than that, he had nothing to go on.

Shaking his head, Leon forced his shoulders to relax and gripped the glass. Cringing slightly, the man downed the rest and instantly got back to his feet, ready to just call it a night.

Mistake.

The moment he was upright, Leon blinked quickly, right hand reaching for the edge of the counter as the rim of his vision thickened; the fogginess crept slowly towards the center of his sight. How strong was that drink? It couldn't have been enough to have quite this extreme of an effect.

With a shaky breath, he found himself relying on his hold on the bar to keep himself steady. Ringing began to pierce through the white noise of the chattering and laughing until it nearly overthrew all other noise. The only thing louder were his own quickened breaths. He could feel eyes on him, barely able to make out a few hushed questions of concerns. Before he could say anything, there was a heavy hand on his shoulder. Leon cut his eyes over, and through hazed eyes, he made out the face of the bartender.

"Don't worry, it just appears he's had a bit too much to drink," the much larger man assured, flicking a glance to the 'drunk' man in question.

Leon wanted to protest, but his voice wouldn't cooperate. In fact, nothing seemed to want to listen to him anymore. The hand slinked around to his other side, and he realized with dread, that hold was likely the only thing keeping him up at this point. Against his will, his rapidly relaxing form leaned more heavily against the other man.

"I'll jus...ake him down...o his ro-om."

The agent's eyes widened as much as they could as the broken statement finally made sense in his head.

The tone of the man's voice, it came across as impatient in the agent's head. That and the pressure of his hold the bartender had on him - secure. Whether it was to make sure he remained upright or for some other reason, he couldn't discern. But in his slowly declining mind, it made little difference.

He was getting a gnawingly dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he was fairly sure it had nothing to do with whatever he just drank. He tried to pull away with whatever remaining strength he could muster, but all the accomplished was causing the hold on him to tighten.

"Easy th'ere," the brute of a man said almost playfully. The forced kindness in the tone made Leon's mind buzz. He hefted the intoxicated man up, slinging one arm over his shoulders. A second later, they were both moving. Well, one was moving while the other was practically being dragged. His vision faded in and out. Every time it cleared they were a couple feet from where he remembered. The fight for consciousness was quickly becoming a losing battle. In fact, he could no longer sense any feeling in his legs or arms. They were nothing but dead weight at this point.

However, the state of his limbs were the least of his worries when he noticed them headed in the opposite direction of his room. Every alarm bell was now ringing loud and clear, giving him just large enough of a burst of adrenaline to snatch himself away. But that was all it permitted him to do, for a moment later, his legs gave out and he was on the floor in a graceless heap. His chest ached with the speed at which his heart thumped while every other inch of him was numb.

Not even his growing panic was giving him what he needed in order to do the simplest task of standing up. All he could do was lie there and watch, like a slideshow, as the other stepped closer, crouched, and this time hefted Leon up before lying him over his shoulder.

"That's -nough…" More words were uttered, but they were lost to Leon. Every step jarred his now weary mind, disorienting him more and more by the second. Time was lost - hours and seconds seemed to be one of the same.

There was no telling in which direction they were headed in anymore. He was merely aware of the fact that they were indeed still moving. One thing he did realize though: it was colder, a hell of a lot colder. Chilled to the point where the numbness crumpled under the pressure. For the next immeasurable amount of time, Leon found himself completely drifting out of it, in and out until there were considerable gaps in his memory. He soon lost track of everything: where he was, what was happening, and seldomly, who he was.

Everything only came crashing back to him when he was unceremoniously tossed to the ground, where the air was knocked from his lungs violently. For the first time in a while, a sound escaped him, but it was nothing more than a pained groan.

With more effort than he would have cared for, Leon rolled to his side, and with it, the room did as well, twice over.

Room...his eyes darted around in an attempt to make sense of his surroundings. But, it was no use, nothing would focus; all he could see was gray and bright lights. Too bright for his overly sensitive eyes and his slowly creeping headache. Actually, now that he had a chance to lie there and let his senses catch back up, how whole body ached. His eyelids felt heavy. Honestly, it felt almost the same as a hangover. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that's exactly all it was.

He cut his eyes up when a shadow drifted over him - he almost forgot the other was there.

"You thought you could just come snooping around, did ya?" the man scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "Did ya really think no one would notice a foreigner eyeing everyone and following people?" He chuckled lightly under his breath. "Damn government always has to stick their noses where it doesn't belong."

Leon tried to push himself up, but his arms still weren't responding well enough. As he fumbled back against the floor - the cold, and he now noticed, metallic floor - his vision danced with bursts of color. There wasn't the chance for him to get a proper look around, or even catch a glimpse at the other person he heard approaching. Beyond the echoing footsteps and a few muffled words being exchanged, his muddled mind could make out no more.

* * *

Everything felt weighed down, like lead encompassed his veins. His brow furrowed as remnants of his headache came back for seconds. His fingers twitched, itching to massage his temple. One tug of the limb and he was wide awake when the movement was restricted - or rather halted altogether. Metal lied beneath him, cold to the touch.

"Wha-" he gasped, voice hardly above a hushed whisper.

His eyes only managed to open a sliver before the intense light forced them back shut. Leon turned his head to the side, futilely trying to shield himself from the onslaught of rays. Jaw clenched, he squeezed his eyes tighter and tried his best to wait it out.

"Joined just in time."

Every fiber of his being tensed at the unfamiliar voice. It definitely wasn't the bartender from the previous night, and it sure as hell didn't belong to anyone else he remembered talking to while on this mission. He tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat and turned as much as he could to look in the direction of the voice.

His breath shuddered out as he caught sight of the man, elderly, hovering just a couple feet away.

"The hell are you?" he ground out. Despite the low volume, his words were enveloped in his obvious grogginess. He also hated the way he flinched the smallest amount when the man took a step closer. One bony, almost decrepit appearing hand rose to rest on the younger man's forehead. His mouth opened in question, but not a sound came out when his head was turned in the opposite direction, leaving his neck completely exposed.

For a moment, the elder said nothing, simply observed, his free hand pressing against different spots on Leon's neck.

"H-Hey, what are yo-" His breath hitched, a sting pricking his flesh.

His whole body froze up as the sensation dulled after a split second. He recognized this feeling, this light twinge - a syringe.

"The hell was that!?" he demanded the moment his head was released. Whatever it was, he could feel it; it itched and burned at the same time, slowly spreading from the place of entry. His breathing picked up pace as panic started to reintroduce itself.

"Fear will only make it worse," the older man said calmly - dryly. "Do not worry, there is no ill intent in what we do; this is all for the greater good."

Leon blinked in confusion as the burning intensified, now running down his right arm and down through his chest. He could feel his muscles tightening as whatever this injection was made contact. "What the fuck is this!?" he urged again, and his throat protested against the abuse. He pulled at his restraints - with no use. He felt it reach his fingertips and run down his spine. Everything was lighting on fire.

"I told you to stay calm. This is merely a watered down solution, a shadow of the real thing." He spoke softly, words so low they barely reached over the sounds of Leon's heavy breaths and occasional groan of discomfort. "It's not meant to change you...just teach the body to fight back. To create antibodies."

Ignoring his clear distress, Leon's eyes shot back open as he looked the man straight in the face. The other stared back, unblinking.

"Test subject?" Leon whispered, remembering the missing people. "Is that...is th-" his eyes snapped back shut as a wave of fire washed over him.

"That's right," the man went on, still unfazed by the distraught man before him. It was unsettling, the way he seemed almost bored. Leon wondered just how many people he has tried this stuff on. "A search for a vaccine, a universal one, one to combat any strain. Only way to do that...is exposure."

Then…

Leon's heart lurched with realization. Just what was he injected with, which one was he just given? His mind buzzed with questions, remembering each and every strain he came across over the years.

The older man finally took a seat next to the table and crossed his legs. "I'm sorry you had to be dragged into this, but you were getting too close. I'm sure you understand; something like this, it can't get out, not to anyone. No one would understand the importance of this work. And...we're so close. Our last...volunteer, he fought well, long and hard; it was nearly a success. But…" he trailed off, shaking his head as if he were talking about a lost pet.

"I guess some strains are just compatable with one another, coexisting well within the body. And it seems some people, they just can't handle that kind of hosting, so their body just gives in." He sighed wearily before turning his head back to Leon. "But you, you seem stronger than the last, both physically and mentally; my hopes for you are much higher."

Leon couldn't respond, he was afraid to open his mouth. Instead his teeth just clenched together, hard enough he feared the possibility of a tooth chipping. His fingers curled as he felt the sensation finally reach down to his ankles.

"As I said, there is no need to worry. Just stay calm, the worst of it will pass in due time. It might be a few minutes, or a few hours. It varies from person to person. But, it never takes more than a day. For now, all we can do is wait." With a small groan of his own, the man got back to his feet, and Leon could make out his light footsteps as he slowly walked away. "I'll be back in the morning to check on things. If my research and guesses are correct, you should be fine by then."


	2. Fatigue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi) (aka KageroAssassin - Tumblr)
> 
> Consultant: [Untranquilizing](https://untranquilizing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Tumblr: [Tumblr](http://elillierose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Here is it, chapter 2! Hope you all enjoy~

His breaths, coming out in ragged gasps, grated uncomfortably against his throat. If it weren't for the deep aches pulsing through his every fiber, the dampness of his clothing would have been something to complain about - but, as of now, it was a mere nuisance. Leon twitched one finger, cringing internally when that sent a few needles up his arm.

How long has it been? A few minutes? Hours? Possibly even days. It sure has hell felt like it.

At least the man was right: the worst of it was indeed over, but what remained wasn't something he could describe as a relief. He desperately needed sleep, but every pulse of his heart gave him a reason to stay awake: the burning, crawling sensations delivered to every inch of his body with each beat.

The fluorescent light still pierced even through closed eyes, doing nothing but assisting the throbs that ran through his head. Despite this, Leon took a deep breath and forced one of his eyes open a sliver. He fought the urge to close it right back. He didn't get the chance to take a look around earlier, and even now he cursed himself for wasting the opportunity. Blinking furiously, his eye drifted to the right, where he could vaguely make out a desk or table of sorts - it was hard to make out the details from that angle.

It appeared like a normal doctor's office desk: decorated with the typical tools and clutter. He squinted in an attempt to clear the blurry image, but the best he could get was clarity teasing him. His sight wavered, only becoming clear for a fraction of a second every time. But, each moment gave him another piece to fit together, and soon enough he was able to identify a few more things, each one leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

A rack of vials sat towards the back with a chart right next to them. And behind that, another rack of what he could only assume were more syringes.

His skin crawled at the sight. Leon's mind just wondered back to questioning exactly what he was injected with. The fact that he was still himself allowed a little hope to slip by, but that also served to raise more inquiries. His heart was accelerating again, bringing with it a new wave of fire. He had to calm down; panicking really did only make it worse.

Taking a deep breath - ignoring the way his lungs protested - he held it, willing himself to settle down. As expected, the more he calmed his nerves, the more the pain dulled in his veins. He had to remind himself not to get so worked up, no matter how dire the situation seemed. Though, to be fair, it appeared rather serious.

"Pull yourself to'ether," he muttered shakily to himself. His voice was hardly above a whisper, and yet he could still make out the hoarseness. From the sounds of it, they wanted to keep him alive as long as possible; that would give him time to think and figure things out. As long as they didn't plan on continuously subjecting him to whatever they already had.

A small jolt ran through him, snatching him from his thoughts at the sound of a creak. He could hear the slow breaths of the man before he saw a glimpse out of the corner of his eye.

"I must say," the older man mumbled wearily, "you handled the first dose far fairer than previous specimen."

The word 'first' rang loud and dreadfully in Leon's addled mind. But he found it difficult to be surprised.

"Most would have been unconscious by now, but you seem to be rather aware of your surroundings, mister Kennedy." The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he had to suppress a chill from giving way to his shock. "I should apologise, I never properly introduced myself." The man forced a small smile, one that Leon assumed was supposed to come across as friendly, but the emotion never reached those dull eyes.

Leon remained silent, barely even breathing as he clung to the other's every movement and utterance.

Slowly, he rounded the table, keeping an unsettling eye on the younger man as he did so. His tongue slid gradually over his lips while he took a seat nearby, legs crossing over one another.

"My name is Abram, Abram Volkov." As he said this, he shifted in such a way that Leon made out an instant of red and white - an all too familiar emblem - placed on the right side of Abram's coat. "The facility I used to work in, they had a variety of experiments going on, none of which tickled my fancy. I was aware of the problems and threats they procured there. However; I didn't mind, I had my own goals in mind, goals that I couldn't achieve without such advanced technology and equipment…" he trailed off, as if this story bored him. As if he grew tired of telling it.

Clapping his hands together, the sound a large contrast to his soft voice, Abram stood back up with a new gleam in his eye. "Well, shall we continue where we left off?"

Leon tensed as the man's back turned to him, and he began rummaging through what he had assumed to be the syringes and vials. After about half a minute, he turned back once more, a tube in one hand and - he cursed the fact he was right - a syringe in the other. His face must have revealed his unease, for Abram smiled once more.

"Don't worry, there won't be any injection this time." That did little to appease the younger man's nerves. He drew closer and leaned over, needle hovering just over the crook of Leon's arm. "I just need a sample," the man whispered before plunging the needle deep in his flesh.

There was only a slight flinch as the syringe filled up. He was instantly repulsed by the obviously darker shade of it - tainted, and almost tar-like in color.

"It's going to take me some time to analyze this, so in the meantime, I have a place set up for you to get some rest." He glanced up at Leon's face to see questions burning his features. "I'm not a monster, after all, I still need subjects to be in rather good condition. They are of no use to me dead." He watched for a second longer before adding, "But, you have other concerns, I see." He sighed as he set the sample to the side, "Go on, ask away. I am in no rush."

Leon's lips pressed together, his own stare still locked on that Umbrella emblem. "My name," he rasped, leaning his head back, "how do you...know it?"

A soft, aged chuckle left Abram's barely parted lips. "You think we don't know about the government's lapdogs? After the chaos and intrusions they've caused? Trust me, we have a few of our own who gather names and faces. As a precaution, of course. You, however, well, luck just happened not to be on your side in this instance." He shrugged nonchalantly before his hands began to unclasp the strap around Leon's right hand. The latter just watched.

He continued to stare as he undid the other. Instantly, the thought of strangling this man where he stood crossed Leon's mind. But, like before, he could hardly get his arms to move more than an inch without making him regret it. Guess this is why he felt so comfortable undoing his restraints when they were alone in this room together.

Regardless of the man's confidence - and his own doubts - Leon jumped to his feet the moment he was presented with the chance.

Instant regret when a wave of dizziness washed over him - it was damn near nauseating. His hand, trembling as it was, grasped the edge of the table, tight enough for his kncukles to pale. Colors blossomed in his vision, threatening to encompass his sight altogether. This was almost worse than the previous night...almost. Unlike before, at least he was standing mostly on his own. Though, based on the shaking in his legs, the likely wouldn't last for much longer.

After what could have been only been a few seconds, he was forced to drop to his knees before he ran the risk of passing out. His eyes fell to the floor and locked on, needing something to anchor himself onto. It helped only a little as his mind continued to turn circles.

"If I were you, I'd make slower movements," Abram suggested. "Your body is still fighting against foreign organisms, after all." Without offering Leon so much as a glance, he raised the vial of blood to eye level and gave it a gentle swirl.

The younger didn't reply, instead he pressed one palm against his forehead and focused mainly on his breathing. "What...did you do?" he asked. His words were so low, that for a moment, he wasn't sure if he was even heard - even wondered if he actually spoke at all.

He jolted slightly when a shadow bore over him, and his eyes slowly drifted to gaze at the form now lingering over him. Abram crouched, free hand reaching to grab Leon's chin. Said hand was swiftly - weakly - slapped away as the ailing man fell back in an attempted to put at least a little distance between them. There is was again, the forced, kind, smile. "I told you: I'm helping. I understand the dangers of these viruses; I've seen what they can do. I just want to create something to combat it. And, in order to do that, I just need a little help from the human body, is all." He carefully rose back to his feet, eyes still on the man before him, "The body has natural defenses, and all they need is a little push to fight these infections."

Leon couldn't help a stifled snort from escaping. Stutteringly, he backed up until he felt wall behind him, and with the help of that, painstakingly made his way back to his feet. Vision still wavering in and out of clarity, he managed to keep his eyes fixated on Abram.

"If there was a way...d-don't you think...someone would hav-"

"If others  _really_ wanted to fight these infections, then yes, someone would have already found a way!" Abram snapped without warning, tone quite a few notches louder than before. "But, do you really think  _anyone_ truly wants to bring an end to all this? With all the potential it has? No matter which side of it you stand, there is money and power to be had in these viruses. So, tell me, Kennedy, why would anyone want to be completely rid of them?"

The brunet stood there silently, only his breathing filling the temporary silence. Breathing in ringing - his moment of adrenaline-fueled strength was swiftly fleeting.

"That's what I thought. Now, allow me to see you to your room." Just like that, his tone carried its earlier, calm, sound as he closed the gap between them. Pocketing the sample, he reached out just before Leon had the chance to fall and pulled one of his arms over his shoulders, taking most of the weight. As much as the younger man despised it, he was far too exhausted to find himself able to pull away. Without his meaning to, his head fell to the side, finding support against the older man's shoulder.

He was vaguely aware of the door sliding open, and he cursed himself for choosing now to tease the idea of unconsciousness. He fought it all this time, and now it was deciding to catch up with him. After just a few short seconds - or so he assumed - he felt himself being dragged more so than supported. His legs no longer responded to his demands.

'Dammit!' he grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing all of his escaping strength on just walking mostly on his own. But, nothing. Just before he gave it another go, all movement ceased.

Leon raised his head as much as it would allow and made out the blurred image of a door. Not a word was spoken as he felt a shift and it slid open. The change in light intensity was instantly relieving. He let out an involuntary sigh as he was pulled over the threshold. He stumbled when they turned and he was released unexpectedly. Preparing himself for an impact, he let out a slow breath when it never came. Instead, Leon found himself lying on something surprisingly soft. Or, softer than what he had expected.

The shock must have been palpable.

"Like I said, I'm not a monster."

Leon couldn't say a word, couldn't really move for that matter. It was clear, his body craved to finally give in. So deprived as it was, it needed to take a moment to recuperate. Required some time to process whatever it was subjected to. He remained exactly where he was, unmoving as black pulsed from the corners of his eyes.

The last thing he heard before succumbing to his mind's pleas was:

"I'll be back for the next dose tomorrow."

* * *

_It was like being charred from the inside out. Like his own blood was boiling, rolling through his veins. And, for a few moments, Leon could have sworn each cell had a mind of its own, and each was purely bent on revenge. It was particularly relentless in his chest; every inhale bringing with it a fresh current._

_It was so damn hot he could even see the flames demanding his attention. It quickly got to the point where even his breaths were like gulping down embers._

_There was seemingly no end to the inferno._

_Just when he thought he could no longer take it, the flames slowly started to ebb away. Gradually they retreated until it was nothing more than a dull warmth throbbing through his limbs. His breaths continued to rake out of his throat, but it was at least tolerable now. For a few moments, Leon lied there, taking slow breaths, almost afraid to so much as twitch a muscle. But, there was something nagging him, deep down, urging him that it wasn't safe - he had to move._

_Clumsily, he rolled over to his side, breath catching in the process. His skin tingled with the motion. Leon pushed his physical complaints to the back of his mind and worked himself to his hands and knees. It wasn't until then that he caught the first glance of his surroundings. It was dark and muddled, but he could make out the ash that crumbled down around him. Leon stared down at his hands, both stained with soot._

_His gaze narrowed, brows furrowed as he tried desperately to piece everything together. Slowly, he realized, he had no idea where he was, and the more he dug in his memory, the more his head protested._

_He pressed his hand against his forehead, heart skipping a beat at the sensation he came across - wetness. Breath shuddering, he pulled his palm away and cringed at the stinging it caused. Arm trembling, Leon stared, unblinking, at the crimson stain plastered over his hand._

" _W-What?" he stuttered, quickly losing control of his breathing._

_Eyes locked on the blood, he was vaguely aware of the drips pelting the ground. He could only watch as the red spread, going down his fingers and up his arm, consuming like a festering wound._

" _Shit…" he whispered, voice all but gone as the color seeped into his skin - into his veins - and slowly crept higher up his arm. And damn did it burn the whole way. He held his breath and pulled his arm to his chest. The sensation changed, morphed into what felt like something actually slithering under his skin._

_Like it was fucking alive._

_Just before he felt it reach his heart, he jolted._

Leon now sat, upright with his arm still pressed against his chest as deep, panicked breaths sounded out. Cautiously, damn near forcefully, he pulled the limb away and dropped his gaze to take a look.

Nothing.

His arm appeared exactly as it should have. A little paler than normal, but other than that, perfectly fine. Suppressing a nervous chuckle, he brushed a few damp strands out of his face.

' _Can't believe I'm letting this get to me,_ ' he thought bitterly. He leaned forward, leaning his head in his hands as he took a couple, slow deep breaths. They were painful, but calming at the same time. Not by much, but a nice change of pace when compared to that dream.

Letting out one more heavy exhale, Leon lifted his head back up and scooted himself back until he was pressed against the back wall. His eyes still yearned for more sleep, his limbs still burned for rest, but his mind pleaded for anything but. Overall, it was safe to say he felt like complete shit. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a slight movement; it was a wonder it took him this long to see it. A mirror.

For the first time since he was drugged and dragged down here, he took a look over himself, or what he could see of himself. If possible, his face was even more drained of color than his arms and hands were. He also appeared just as tired as he felt, which lead him to wonder just how long he slept. It couldn't have been that long. He dragged a hand over his face and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Even now, they felt leaden.

Leon tore his attention away from the mirror and placed his left hand over the injection site. There was a slight heat radiating from it. He would have just passed that off simply as a fever, but his touch also brought with it an array of pins and needles. It was more sore than one would expect from something similar to a shot.

Shaking his head, he allowed his hand to fall back to his lap as he lifted his head back up. There was really nothing to do at the moment. One glance at the door told him there was not a chance of him getting through that, and there wasn't a window or vent in sight that could be pried open. Nothing more than a sitting duck, waiting to see what was in store for him next. His stomach dropped at the implications. His brain drifted, wandered to different scenarios, none of which were ideal.

Leon's fingers curled as the possibilities grew darker and less desirable, grasping at the fabric of his pants. Jaw tense, he jumped when his thoughts were interrupted by the sliding of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you thunk thus far, and hopefully the next chapter will come soon enough~


	3. Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi)
> 
> Consultant: [Untranquilizing](https://untranquilizing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://elillierose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Finally, it is here, chapter 3~ And a lot more planned out.

Instantly, Leon's eyes were on the door, or rather, the man that now stood in the open entrance. Unwavering eyes watched Abram, and he only risked a glance away to see what he was carrying. He fought the need to get to his feet, knowing full well it would only turn out very similar to last time. Despite the sleep he finally got, there was still the lingering exhaustion.

Since getting up wasn't an option at that moment, he settled for the next best thing: backing up by a few inches. As he did so, Leon couldn't help but imagine how much of a coward he must have appeared to be. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel the same way. Like a cornered animal that was unable to fight back.

"Are you really still so wary of me?" Abram questioned. And yet, contrary to his playful tone, the man slowed to a stop.

The younger man kept his gaze steady, but forced his shoulders to relax. "Come back to go for another round of your sick games?" he practically seethed, lifting his head ever so slightly.

To his confusion, Abram simply chuckled lightly. "I may be in a hurry, young man, but I do have patience." Carefully, aware of the intense glare that rested upon him, he placed the tray at the foot of the bed and took a couple steps back. "I brought food. I assume it's been some time since you've had something, and your body will need all the strength it can get if it wants to last." Like all the other times, he spoke so casually. "I'll be back in a few hours, so I suggest you eat before then."

Leon remained exactly in the same position until the door had slid completely shut. Only then did he finally let his guard down with a trembling sigh. He wasn't even aware of how fast his heart was beating until a light sensation filled his head when it finally slowed. One hand raised to his head, he leaned forward and closed his eyes.

This wasn't him. This paranoid, cowardly person was definitely not him.

Again, he ran an unsteady hand through damp locks, gripping tightly once he reached the back of his head until the stings signaled for him to release. Wiping both hands down his face, he sat straighter and took a deep breath. There was no way he was going to figure anything out freaking out as much as he was. Which he still knew was so unlike him, but he was willing to bet whatever chemicals were pumped into him were to blame.

And, as much as he were against the idea, he had to admit Abram was right. As much as he didn't trust the man, or anything he provided him with, he was going to have keep up all the strength he could if he hoped of getting out of this. Though, with the way things were going, that idea was looking bleaker by the second.

With an inward groan, Leon eased his way towards the tray, and with one unsteady hand, lifted the cover. He involuntarily grimaced at the bland sight: oatmeal, it appeared. Better than nothing.

Lifting the spoon left to the side, he scooped a bit and spent a good few seconds observing the portion. Then, a small sniff; yup, definitely oatmeal. That is, if the lack of any scent at all was anything to go by. Holding his breath, Leon took the first bite and swallowed thickly. It took a majority of his willpower not to shudder. It took some time, and more than a little self-convincing, but he eventually finished.

Though, that isn't to say he enjoyed it in the slightest. If anything, he felt far more sluggish and nauseated. To distract himself, he took another look around the room, subconsciously seeking out any indication as to what time it was. After just a quick glance, he huffed out heavily. Of course, not a clock or window. Everything in this room appeared to be securely bolted down. Looked as though this guy was taking every ounce of precaution he could. Not that he blamed anyone. Though, even without that knowledge, he was aware he still had some time to waste while waiting. Setting the tray on the floor, he took one more glance at the utensil: a plastic spoon...not exactly a lot of damage he could do with that.

Biting his lip in thought, Leon snatched it up and turned it over in his hands. It wasn't the most deadly...but it was rather sturdy considering. After taking a quick look towards the door, he gripped either side, and with little effort, snapped it in half. Leon tossed one half to the side and backed back up against the wall - the concrete wall.

Working quickly, he began filing the plastic down, working it away nonstop until footsteps could be faintly heard, and growing louder. Swearing under his breath, the makeshift weapon was quickly tucked into the waistband of his pants. He took a deep breath and held it as the steps stopped on the other side of the door. Despite having no sense of time, he was fairly certain there was no way a few hours could have passed already.

Every muscle froze as the door began to open, and the moment he made out the face that passed through, confusion replaced his anticipation.

"The hell are you?" he nearly spat before he could stop himself.

This guy was tall, and very clearly built. Even through his blue jumper, his strength was visible. His head was cleanly shaven, and his face carried a perpetual look of annoyance. Any way he was viewed, this seemed to be a man you wouldn't want to mess with.

The newcomer didn't say a word, simply began walking forward, not even risking the agent so much as a glance. Leon never let his eyes wander from the larger form as he approached closer, eyes still never giving Leon the light of day.

"Hey, did you hear m-?" A couple of clanging sounds echoing off the walls cut him off when the man crouched down, picking up the tray as he stood back up. As he went to turn around, he too, paused as he gazed down at the tray. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder until his gaze landed on the discarded spoon scrap. Leon followed that look, filling with panic as he cursed his stupid mistake. Sighing, the man finally gave the other his attention and held out his free hand.

For a solid second, Leon didn't move, a thousand scenarios running through his head. His mouth had run dry and he could feel the sharpened shank against his side, almost burning a hole through his skin. Slowly, he reached for it, knowing full well there was no lying his way of this. Even if he thought he had a chance, from his assumption, this guy wouldn't even be able to understand him. Fingers glancing over the sharpened edge, he eased himself to the edge of the bed and unsteadily got to his feet. His breaths came out slow and purposeful.

He waited, allowing the other man to close the gap. His heart pounded in his chest as he finally gripped the plastic. His body almost went on autopilot when the brute was close enough. He moved quickly, as quickly as his weakened state would allow. His aim gravitated straight for the neck.

For a split second, nothing happened; not a single breath was exhaled. Then, he felt it: the iron like grasp on his forearm. Leon risked a glance and his teeth bared at the sight of the point a mere centimeter from the man's jugular. Either this guy was faster than he anticipated, or he himself was slower than he thought. Without hesitation, his arm was gripped tighter, eliciting a wince, then turned painfully to the side, causing him to lose his grasp. The moment the weapon was gone from his hand, he felt himself being thrust to the side before landing hard on the ground.

Stars burst in his vision, leaving him disoriented as shuffling could be heard. Ringing was swiftly increasing in volume as well. He attempted to blink away the dizziness, but it only seemed to intensify it tenfold. He tried to move, but his adrenaline was already wearing off; his body refused to respond to the simplest of commands. He was hardly aware of the goings on around him until he made out the familiar sound of the door sliding shut.

* * *

The next time he opened his eyes, Leon was still in the exact same place he last remembered. He still didn't move as aches resonated all over him. Instead he lied there, relishing in the coolness of the floor while he could; there was now no telling how much time he now had before he was retrieved.

He only moved when he touched a single hand against his forehead. It came off far warmer than he knew it should have been.

'Great,' he thought with a heavy sigh. A fever was definitely developing, and rapidly.

His body ached as though he were lying there for days, let alone hours. For a while, he wondered if he was simply forgotten about. But, he instantly scrapped that thought: not a chance in Hell he would have been that lucky. However, at the same time, he kind of hoped something would happen soon.

As if on cue, footsteps echoed towards him, these a lot lighter than the earlier ones. He could only assume Abram was on his way this time. His jaw instinctively clenched. If it hadn't been for that monster of a man earlier, he would have still had the upper hand with this guy. But, as it stood, with his body feeling the way it was, he doubted he could have overpowered Abram, regardless of how weak or small he appeared.

As the door opened again, Leon still didn't budge from his spot. Even as a pair of hands gripped his upper arms, he did little about it. He may not have been able to do much, but he also wasn't willing to make this easier for them. To his surprise, the older man didn't seem willing to use a lot of violent force; instead his tugs came off as a bit more gentle, like slight encouragements.

"Come on, it is time for more testing. I know you're not feeling up for it, but this research is vital to the human race."

After a couple more tugs, he finally knelt down and placed one hand on the side of Leon's face, carefully turning his head until the two were facing one another. The younger man stared into dull and weary orbs, his mouth pressed into a straight and hard line.

"You being stubborn is only going to make this more difficult for both of us." He gave the man a few light taps on the cheek, in a near patronizing manner. "If you don't at least try to work with me, I can't assure getting you from point 'A' to point 'B' will be a pleasurable experience." Leon noticed his eyes flash to his arm, then back to his face. "From the looks of it, you've already had a taste of what the hard way entails." The corner of his mouth twitched at the way Leon tensed at the mention. There was no doubt there was the beginnings of a bruise there by now.

His heart skipped a beat at the recollection. And that was just over a tray retrieval. Brows furrowing, Leon finally made a move to get up. Of course, if it weren't for Abram's support, he wouldn't have made it very far, probably not even off the floor.

"There we are," Abram muttered once they were both upright. "I knew you were a reasonable man, Kennedy." Leon could only groan in acknowledgement as he was half dragged back into the hall. They took the exact same long trek back to what he could only describe as a doctor's office. His arm itched and burned at the sight of the table. "And now…" he muttered, making a move to assist the younger man.

Abram's touch was swiftly swatted. "I don't need your help," he breathlessly seethed between teeth. To his surprise, Abram actually took a step back to allow a bit of space. It took some time and effort, but soon enough, he was lying back down, and he hated that he let out a small, involuntary breath of relief.

"Well then, shall we begin?"

"Do I have a choice?"

There was only a minor smirk in response. His clipboard was plucked from the desk and he scribbled away, mumbling to himself as he did so: "There are also signs of irritability." He missed the eye roll he received from his patient. He set his notes to the side once more, and like before, exchanging it for another syringe.

Leon eyed this one a bit more warily, actually being able to make out the contents of this one; whatever it was, it really did not belong in someone's bloodstream. Unconsciously, his head turned slightly in a weak attempt to block access to his neck. It was little use as his head was grabbed similarly to last time and forced to the side and the needle was plunged in. Same as last time, Leon gasped at the initial burning sensation.

"This one may be a bit more uncomfortable," Abram warned.

A bit of a redundant tidbit of info when the stuff was already in his veins, Leon thought. Already, he could feel the difference in this one and the first. The heat was a lot stronger, and with every beat of his heart, it grew hotter still. His fingers curled, and he could tell his back was arching slightly.

"Same as before, mister Kennedy, try to relax. I assure you, this is not a lethal dose."

Leon let a small growl escape, "Like...that h-elps." His breath caught in the back of his throat, nearly causing him to choke on it. He could taste bile on the back of his tongue as the fire continued to course through his body. Despite all this, Abram's voice echoed around him.

"Patient...signs of sev...comfort." He spoke to himself as he scribbled away, disinterested. Leon felt a cool touch to the side of his face, and more muttering and scratching of a pen. "...progressing...ever, body is trying to figh...no obvio...igns of success."

Leon tried desperately to focus on the man's words. Each syllable seemed to slip between his fingers the moment he was starting to gather some sort of comprehension. He could barely focus on his own thoughts as his insides were ravaged by scorching heat. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn whatever was injected was straight hydrochloric acid.

His eyes were squeezed shut, and still, he found the lights to be blinding, searing even. On instinct, he forced his head to the side, as far as he could turn it. The coolness of the table, contrasting starkly, bit into his cheek. His throat burned, from what exactly, he had no idea. But he doubted it was from the injection alone. Breaths were gasped in, doing him no favors, as they raked like jagged claws all the way into his lungs.

How long was it going to last this time?

Last time was nowhere near this bad, and as long as it lasted, it was pushing it. Everytime he inhaled, the air was forced right back out when a spasm wracked him. Everything was so damn hot, it was teetering on the edge of being numb. But it never quite crossed that threshold. Leon was on the verge of pleading - praying even - when black blotches began bubbling up, partially shielding his vision from the piercing light. The farther they spread, the easier the pain became to tolerate.

For once, he welcomed it; craved the alleviation.

He breathed out, waiting for darkness to claim him, inviting it to do so. Soon after, a chill ran through him, catching him off guard and snatching him out of his moment of vagueness. It was an odd feeling, like tendrils slithering through his veins, extinguishing flames as they passed. The heat still persisted, remained uncomfortable and nearly debilitating, but manageable for now.

Leon lied there, head still turned stiffly to his right and breaths coming and going quickly. Beads of sweat could be felt trickling down his face and the back of his neck. Regardless, his form trembled with a harsh shiver. To his utter bewilderment, he actually felt chills rise to his skin.

A small, pained whimper soon found its way out, but he didn't care. He was just thankful it was mostly over. Minor twinges and shudders still ran through his limbs, eliciting a slight gasp with every one. He drew in a particularly sharp breath when a hand forced his head back straight, making him see those dim eyes again. He could hear Abram talking, but not a word he was saying. His head was soon released and it instantly rolled back to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the older man moving again, back towards his desk where he could only assume what he was doing. His heart seemed to tighten as Abram fiddled with his equipment until he had another syringe in hand.

Leon was going in and out of lucidity, his vision blurring too frequently to make out the appearance this time.

Without thinking, he felt his mouth move, forming the word 'please'. His throat tightened, clenching until he nearly gagged. "No," he mumbled, hoping he was making sense. "No, no no," he sluggishly moved his head from side to side. But he lacked the energy to do anything more.

The younger man flipped back and forth between clarity and obscurity; every time Abram came into focus, he could see his mouth moving and hear a warped version of his voice. But there were two words he saw on his lips, two words he had no doubt was being spoken.

'Don't worry.'


	4. Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi)
> 
> Consultant: [Untranquilizing](https://untranquilizing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Ok, so I apologize for this one being a bit on the shorter side, but I was afraid of dragging it out. XD

'Don't worry'?

What the hell was he supposed to do then? He tried to protest, but only a small groan made its way out. The closer Abram got, the faster his heart raced. It wasn't until the man was a few inches away that he came to realize the syringe was empty. Leon closed his eyes and held his breath as the sting returned to the crook of his arm this time.

It were as though he were in a bubble. Sound was thick and sight was inconsistent. Like a dream. For a minute, he debated with himself if he actually was reality or not. The persistent pain he was struggling with, however, was enough to convince him against the theory, regardless of how much he wished to believe it.

"Just need a couple samples…" Abram muttered, mostly to himself as he began filling a second tube. As the needle was removed, it dragged a hiss out with it.

Leon watched through murky haze as the man held the second sample between nimble fingers. Blackened liquid swirled in its glass container, thick and dark. That couldn't have been his blood, it wasn't natural. But...he did watch it come out of his arm… Maybe it was a trick of the mind; he wasn't thinking straight, after all. And yet, everything else appeared relatively normal.

Without saying another word to the younger man, Abram pulled his chair over and took a seat at the counter, pulling a microscope over. His back now to Leon, the latter could only hear the occasional hum and grumble as he scrawled away. The brunet's brows knit as he tried to lift his head, never getting it higher than an inch.

"What s'it?" he slurred, wincing when his own voice shot spikes through his skull.

"Nothing," the other replied without missing a beat.

Leon opened his mouth to demand what the hell was going on, but whatever words he had planned, burned and disintegrated on the back of his tongue. They left a bitter flavor behind. Abram continued to mumble to himself, his writing becoming hectic - almost panicked. Before he could try to ask again, the man snapped to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over in the process before letting out a frustrated growl and running a shaking hand through thin hair.

Despite the haze, the man held a stiff posture. The tension was pulsating from his form. Any sense of security Leon held onto was repelled as the older man stepped closer and began to undo his bindings.

"How are you feeling, Kennedy?" he questioned between pressed teeth.

Leon knit his brows as the question swirled in his head for a solid couple of seconds. Instead of any coherent words, he replied with a pained whimper as he was shifted, forced to sit up. Everything lurched to the side, but after a couple blinks, he discovered he was still upright. He blinked a few more times, causing bursts of colors in his vision. Leon turned his head towards the other, damp strands of hair swinging into his face, and forced out a weak, "W-What's going'on?"

He took a deep breath to combat the rising nausea as he waited for a response.

There was hesitation before the hold on him tightened and Abram appeared to mimic his deliberate inhale. "Progress, that's what's happening," he muttered slowly - unblinking as he avoided eye contact. "But, we're going to have to move you somewhere else...for better observation." Carefully, his grip on the younger man lightened and his features softened, professionally kind smile back in place.

"You're in safe hands."

As much as he didn't want to trust this man, and as many reasons he was presented with not to, Leon simply nodded. Why he did, he didn't know. His mind was muddled and judgment shot to Hell and back leaving little choice. An arm slinked around his waist, helping him to his feet. Instantly, a tingling sensation slithered down Leon's spine and through his limbs, sapping what little strength was left.

Surprisingly fast, Abram reacted in time to keep him on his feet. His free hand was on Leon's chest, pressing firmly. "Work with me, Kennedy, I can't carry you." The younger man was just in time to catch that blank gaze flicker towards his arm, towards the hand shaped bruise that still stung. "If you cannot at least do some of the work, I'll have to get Rodion to assist. But, as you've noticed, he can be quite rough, and I'd rather my patients not be harmed."

An unsolicited snort escaped from the brunet.

"But, if not much choice is given…" Abram went on, voice stiffening. The corner of his mouth twitched when Leon began to straighten up, grunting with the effort. "I promise, once all this is over, and my research is complete, it will have been worth it."

'For who?' Leon thought bitterly, forcing the lump in his throat down. He held his breath when they started moving, biting down as the first few steps jarred his head and relit embers in his muscles. He bowed his head, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth and solely depended on Abram for the lead. He dragged his feet, breathing in and out in time with his steps. The previously quelled flames were surging back to life with every pound of his heart. It beat faster as the pain worsened, adding fuel to the fire.

'Shit, shit shit,' he repeated in his head, breathing bordering on hyperventilation. He leaned harder against the elder, slouching into him until he was hefted back up, jostled from his near fainting. His head snapped up and a small cry of pain escaped thanks to the onslaught of fluorescent lights. Leon raised a free hand to his face and he turned it to the side, towards the shoulder he leaned on.

"We're almost there," Abram assured, sounding somewhat breathless himself. Not surprising seeing as he was almost hauling the other. "You should be much more comfortable in your new quarters, the lights are...more gentle. The temperature can be...easily adjusted." He cleared his throat and straightened up himself, yanking Leon up with him. A questionable sound left the agent's throat with the sudden movement.

"My apologies."

Leon remained quiet, he kept his lips tightly pressed together as the two of them walked and eventually came to a stop. Face still buried in the crisp, white material, he let out a relieved exhale as the burning in his limbs started to temporarily dull.

"Here we are," he announced, carefully removing one of his hands from the younger man. Leon eyed him, watching as Abram's hand reached into his coat and pulled out his key card before gliding it over the scanner. With a beep, the door slid open. "I'm going to be staying in here for closer monitorization. It has everything I need, aside from a few items, so there are no concerns should things take another unexpected turn." He guided Leon to the single bed in the far corner and let him drop heavily onto it. "I'll return shortly."

If stares could burn, there would be a singed hole straight through Abram's back as he made his leave. The millisecond he was alone, the brunet's shoulders relaxed and a torrent of exhaustion assaulted him. Leon drew in shakily and brought both hands to his forehead. There they combed through sodden locks, fingers gripping when they reached the back and pulled snuggly on his scalp.

This couldn't be happening…

He opened one eye and took a quick, weary glance around. As expected, this room appeared cleaner, more taken care of. And, to his instant dismay, metal - smooth metal - walls. A frustrated sigh echoed and he leaned his head back, dropping his hands to his sides. He's never felt more drained in his life; his eyes burned and limbs begged for proper rest.

Every weighted exhale bounced back towards him after being forced out by the invisible hand pressing down on his chest. He blinked hard and struggled to get his eyes back open. Despite his body's desire, he couldn't allow himself to be dragged into the world of slumber. Teeth digging into his bottom lip, he slipped one arm under him and painstakingly pushed himself up, or, managed to prop himself up on his elbows. As small of a feat as that was, it left him fighting for breath.

It took far too long for it to finally even out. For a few moments, he teased the idea of sitting the rest of the way up, and even standing. But those thoughts fled at the beep and the sliding of the door. Leon cut his eyes over as Abram strolled back in, with a small cart pulled behind him.

"What's all that?" Leon near croaked.

The other hummed as he pulled it the rest of the way in, rolling it next to the far counter. As the cart rolled into a halt, the hairs on the back of Leon's neck stood at the telltale clinks of glass tapping together "Just...some supplies that might come in handy. Can't be too prepared," he shrugged, grabbing something off the counter. "Make yourself comfortable, Kennedy. I just need you to take it easy while I check a few things." His voice dimmed as he spoke, trailed off as he stepped closer with what appeared to be a thermometer in his grasp.

Leon half sat there, unwilling to move from his position as the man worked around him: taking his temperature, checking his pupils and pulse. All the while scribbling down notes in between. Abram flicked his eyes from his chart to catch the younger man glaring back at him.

"I suggest you try and get some rest."

Leon slowly opened his mouth, just now realizing how dry it was, "M'not that tired."

"I see…" Abram muttered under his breath, jotting a couple more things down. "Well, if you happen to be any time soon, you're free to do so." With that, he turned his back to Leon and strolled to the counter.

The younger man couldn't see what he was doing, but he occasionally grabbed a vial or two from the cart as he flipped through his papers, reading and taking notes. This went on for a good while, possibly hours. His eyes burned more as time passed, as did his arms until he finally gave in and allowed himself to fall back against the mattress. Against his will, however, his eyelids fell shut and refused to move.

Hours rolled by, and still, he lay there, nothing but the sounds of his breathing and a pen scratching bouncing in his head. It was loud, like it was gnawing right through his eardrums and into his brain. As ridiculous as it was, he wanted to scratch it, could feel an itch starting to develop. His fingers twitched with the need as the sensation slithered towards his spine. A chill wracked through him and caused an involuntary gasp. His right hand instinctively reached for the back of his neck, which felt oddly warm to the touch.

"Is everything alright?"

Leon jerked, the voice coming from much closer than he expected.

"Fine!" he replied sharply, eyes snapping open to find the other leaning over him. Another shudder ran through him, and Leon knew that one wasn't from whatever was plaguing him. "I-I'm...fine." He swallowed thickly, almost choking when his throat complained about the action.

"Would you like some water?"

Reluctantly, and to his shame, Leon nodded curtly. He couldn't deny it, the dryness was almost intolerable and every breath only made it that much worse.

"What about something to eat? It has been a while."

Leon didn't respond, but the slight paling of his features and scrunching of his features was answer enough. "Right, in that case, I'll be back in about twenty minutes. Again, I urge you to try and sleep if you are able." Still, the younger man was silent, seemingly too focused on something else while Abram, again, made his way out.

For a couple minutes, Leon lay there, feeling every beat of his heart tremble through his body. Then, with a deep breath, he lifted his head enough to see the counter: the microscope, the papers and the vials spread across it. All of them were filled with either blood or a dark substance he couldn't identify. Whatever it was, he was sure he could make out..movement. It was subtle, but there was definitely life. His stomach turned at the sight of it and hoped to whatever higher being there may have been that that wasn't inside of him.

He shook his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. His eyes darted back to the papers, the chart Abram has been glued to this entire time. Giving the door another glance, Leon took in a strained breath and held it as he once again braced himself. Ignoring his discomfort, trying to shove the pleading cries of his muscles to the back of his mind, he used what strength he could muster to finally work his way into a fully sitting position.

Instant regret.

His ears rang slightly, head swam as he fought off the sudden dizziness. There wasn't time for this, he already wasted so much of it. So, clenching his jaw, and keeping one hand pressed firmly against the wall, Leon forced himself to his feet. And, for about a minute, he had to stand there, head tilted down as he waited impatiently for the intense light-headedness to pass. Keeping his head down, he inched along, shuffling his feet and sliding his hand along the wall. Luckily, it was only a few feet away, though there was a minor fear that it may have been a few too many.

'This is nothing,' he reminded himself as he straightened himself up. With some forced motivation, and a temporary burst of energy, Leon pushed away from the wall and took a few wide steps towards the counter. The moment his foot hit the floor, he stumbled forward, both hands flew to grip the metal edge. Breaths were huffed out. His knuckles began to whiten with his hold.

Realizing all of his weight was held up by the surface, he risked pulling one hand away to drag the chair closer and instantly dropped into it. Sighing in relief, he rolled to the side and practically snatched the clipboard.

The pages flipped down, and his eyes quickly scanned the scrawls. He had to squint to get the words to focus, but even then, they weren't making any sense. They seemed to dance around on the page, warp in the nonexistent heat. The only thing he could instantly make out was his own name at the top.

His eyes wandered around the first page as it wavered in and out of focus. '...mild distress...Another administration will be given...also signs of irritability.' The back of his mind buzzed with confusion, trying as it might to piece these random snippets together. Leon tightly closed his eyes and pressed his free hand against them, trying to will them to focus for just one damn minute. He just needed enough info to know exactly what the hell was insi-

"Kennedy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up soon enough~ I have through 7 written!


	5. Delirium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi)
> 
> Consultant: [Untranquilizing](https://untranquilizing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://elillierose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Woooo, finally, things should get a nice change of pace~

"Kennedy?"

Aforementioned man froze, breathing came to a halt and heart solidified. If his mouth was dry before, then it was absolutely arid now.

"W-What are you doing? Those are for my eyes only…"

The papers trembled marginally in Leon's grasp, a few wrinkles trailed from his thumbs as he cut his eyes to the side. Slowly, he turned just far enough to find Abram, standing no more than a foot away. No words were coming to him, his mind ran blank only to be instantly filled with a sense of danger; it was damn near overwhelming.

Softly, yet purposefully, a hand landed on his shoulder, and like a racehorse, Leon's heart took off. "L-Let me explai-" he stuttered, already on his feet, taking a couple steps back before he was aware he was even up. One more step, and he stumbled, right into the counter. More clattering met his ears as well as a shatter on the floor.

"Careful!" Abram hissed, practically shoving the younger man aside to snatch a couple of vials nearing the edge. Hastily, as if a different man entirely, he replaced the vials in their stand. The contents swished with the trembling of his grasp. "You have no idea of the kind of dangers that could occur should these break; God forbid they… they...mix."

Adrenaline continued to course through Leon's veins. He was barely aware of the aching that slowly ebbed away. All he could do was take it all in: the older man's deteriorating demeanor and his escalating hysteria. The whole time, he never once so much as glanced in Leon's direction. The latter, however, drifted his attention from Abram's face, to his hands, and then to...his pocket, where his key card was sticking out slightly.

Leon inhaled deeply and held it despite the crying of his lungs. Back still against the table, he inched closer, one hand slipping higher to slide along the counter's surface. A few shuffles, and his finger twitched as it came into contact with something sharp. He risked a glance...a needle, containing God knows what.

Panic washed over the man when Abram straightened up, swiping a hand over his forehead. There wasn't time to think, not a chance for hesitation. Leon's fingers wrapped around the syringe, gripping it tightly. And, swiftly, he stabbed it as deeply as he could into the older man's neck, eliciting a startled, dry gasp.

One slender hand clawed at his neck, the other straight to Leon's chest as he started shoving him away.

"W-What the hell are you doing?!" he demanded, ripping the needle from his flesh. It clattered across the floor, blood dripping after it. He gasped again, wheezing as air struggled to get passed his lips. His legs shuddered, dropping him to his knees. Thin fingers dug into the younger man's shirt, yanking Leon forward. Already weak, there was nothing he could do to prevent his balance from abandoning him.

They both went down, hard and in a heap. In the middle of the chaos, Leon quickly shook himself back to his senses, hand searching for Abram's pocket. Fortunately, he located the card in a matter of seconds. The second it was in his possession, he pulled himself away, a few feet across the floor until his shoulders bumped into what he assumed to be the bed.

Both of the panting breaths echoed off the walls, as well as the occasional whimper and hiss from Abram as he writhed where he lay. There wasn't time to sit around and wait for the man to compose himself. Now was his chance to get out of this hell. Despite his breaths coming in unevenly and his head throbbing, Leon unsteadily got to his feet.

Desperation lead him forward, guided him to the door where he fumbled with the key card for a second. His warping vision stalled him, fueling his alarm until he was finally greeted with the familiar beep.

The door couldn't open fast enough; there wasn't a single glance risked back as Leon slipped through the moment there was enough room to fit. The momentum was nearly enough to knock him off his feet, but he somehow managed to stay upright. As he made each faltering step, he drifted closer and closer to the wall until he was pressed firmly against it. Despite what his tiring body would otherwise suggest, there was a nagging in the back of his head, pestering and reminding him that he wasn't making it far.

No.

He couldn't think like that; he was getting out of there. Either he was giving all he had to see the light of day again, or…

His shoulders stiffened. No. There was no second option. He was getting out. Leon straightened his back, swallowing down his nausea and shoving his dizziness to the back. He dragged his feet faster, ignoring the increasing numbness in the both of them. If he remembered correctly, this place was under the inn, right? It couldn't have been that big, not to stay hidden...for so long...right under…

"Son of a…" he muttered breathlessly. He slowed to a stop and dropped his gaze to the floor. Now the main concerns: how far did these halls go on for? How many people were down here?

"Map…" he muttered, snapping his head back up; there had to be one somewhere, right? Weary eyes scanned the walls, which blurred under his scrutiny. Dammit, the rush was already wearing off, and he was running out of steam fast. He stumbled onward and tried to ignore the chorus of buzzes assaulting him. Buzzing that almost came across as...muffled voices. Leon spared a swift glance around...no one; and yet, the whispers persisted.

'It's all in your head!' he internally shouted, trying to drown out the other voices. It merely encouraged them to grow more intense, until it was a near itch deep in his ears. 'Stop...stop stop stop.' He couldn't concentrate, not with so many of them - all of them - talking at once, all trying to take the spotlight. One hand pressed unyieldingly against one side of his head, doing what little he could to stifle the noise.

As he shuffled along, he perked slightly, other hand brushing against a different texture - paper.

His eyes widened, and he turned towards it, head spinning with the jarring movement. Yes! A map! Leon squinted, heart hammering as he spotted the little red dot. Sweat was threatening to roll into his eyes. Frustration was fast approaching, and still, he could hardly make out a single line.

"Come on…"

His attention was prompted elsewhere, back behind him.

'...'

Leon's chest constricted, tightening around his heart and lungs. He couldn't stay there. Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he snatched the paper from the wall and convinced his legs to keep moving. He just needed some distance, just a chance to catch his breath and think for five damn minutes.

On top of everything, the previous dizziness was coming back for a second round. He had to find somewhere to settle down for a few moments; the last thing he needed was to pass out in the middle of the hallway. The first door he came across, he shoved his way in, thanking everything he could this one didn't require the card. There was no doubt he wouldn't have been able to swipe it on the first, second or possibly third try.

He instantly pressed his back against the door with heavy breaths and was unable to stop himself from sliding down to the floor. An exhale raked out of him, scraping the inside of his throat. It was then that all the discomfort came rushing over him; all the abuse his body had had to endure was catching up all at once. He knew stopping was a mistake - knew he should have just bit the bullet and forced himself to keep going. But it was too late now, he was already here and waiting for someone he assumed to be there to pass by.

Leon tilted his head back, eyes fluttering but never fully closing. He swallowed, reminding himself of just how dry his mouth was.

'I have to get out of here,' he whispered, words slurring over slightly cracked lips. Hazy gaze scanned the room, never focusing on anything until something in the far corner struck his attention. For a moment, no more than a partial second, the corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes got their first spark in the last 24 hours.

"Bingo," the brunet croaked, turning to get one side against the door as he shuffled his way up. Small whimpers and gasps tumbled out, but he no longer cared what sort of sounds he let out. He kept to the wall, never letting his eye stray from his goal. It took around a minute for him to reach the grating, and the moment he did, he dropped to his knees, gulping down air. He took one more deep inhale before getting right to it.

Using the laminated card, he began unscrewing with his makeshift tool. It was slow and tedious...but it was working. With the first screw 'tinking' against the tile floor, Leon's shoulders relaxed. This could work, he just had to be faster. Abram knew he couldn't have gone far. Hell, he had already made it farther than he thought possible for his state. It wouldn't be long until this room was checked and he was royally fucked.

Bottom lip stinging from stress, he willed his hands to move quicker. Each screw joined the first a couple seconds sooner than the last until all four rolled to a stop. He swiped one hand across his forehead. The light-headedness was creeping back in.

'You just have to get out of here, then you can do whatever you want,' he told himself, seemingly trying to convince his physical body more so than his mind. The man got down on his hands and knees; already, the heat from the vents was causing him to internally flinch.

Putting no more thought into it than he had to, Leon just started crawling, taking mental notes of where he just was and what direction he was going. Getting lost now, in these no less, was bound to be his death sentence. And what an embarrassing way to go that would be. Leon, the man who survived the fall of Racoon city and experienced Las Plagas and come out of that still himself, only to die in a shithole lab's vent system. The bitter thought was almost enough to elicit a small, humorless chuckle. Would have if it wasn't seeming more plausible with each bated breath.

He continued to distract himself with these morbid thoughts. As dark as they were, he had to admit, they helped keep his mind off the fact that all his senses were slowly failing him.

'Wonder how long it will take before - right - they'll figure out where the smell is coming from - left. At least if I do die in here, I can still - left - indirectly make their lives miserable.'

Rounding another corner, the crawling slowed. Surely he'd been going long enough to get some sort of distance, or long enough to check the map and figure out where he was now, at least. He turned, hunched over to accommodate the small space and held the map against the other metal wall. Muttering, and tracing his path with his other finger, he eventually estimated where he was.

Again, he was amazed with himself over the distance he covered. He squinted. Not only was he still battling the war with blurry vision, but now there was the lack of light making it twice as challenging. It was fine, he had plenty of time. Even if they found out he was in the vents, they still didn't know which way he went or how far. He also doubted either of them following: Abram, let's be honest, was no longer in his prime, and the other, yeah. Leon could barely get through these things as it were.

As he almost had his route in mind, the whispering tickled his eardrums, teasing him as they slowly made a comeback.

His head gave an involuntary twitch the side - it was as if he could feel the faceless voices brushing over his hair. There was no one there, he knew that, but that didn't stop him from making sure. Leon glanced in either direction, then again, and once more just to be sure.

'There's no one here but yourself,' he shook his head, regretting it a moment later.

He dropped the map as he sensed the vent turning around him, or maybe it was him. He didn't know which one he would have prefered. Neither, of course, but it had to be one or the other. His vision danced around the idea of fully veiling itself in black. It flipped between that and clarity, struggling to choose one.

Slowly, the darkness pulled away, leaving only a few ink blotches for a couple seconds more, before they, too, faded away.

No more fast movements, just another thing to keep in mind.

Another minute, and everything around him finally stilled. Every limb resonated with a weakness he was growing far too accustomed to. Lifting himself back up, he wiped a trail of what he assumed to be saliva from his mouth. Leon grabbed for the map again and tried to pick up where he left off. But nothing was coming to him. He racked his brain - nothing.

"Shit…" he hissed, pressing his free palm against one eye. Colors exploded under the pressure. "Son of a bitch!" His voice bounced around him as he balled the paper up and tossed it to the side. Both hands then tousled his hair, brushing it this way and that before the fell to his sides with matching 'thuds'.

Who needed a damn map anyway. This place couldn't go on forever. And if it did? ...Then fuck it. Every muscle rigid - burning - Leon went back to crawling. He wasn't quite sure, but he was convinced he was moving a good deal faster than before. Unfortunately, there was no doubt it was thanks to a second round of frustration fueled adrenaline.

Seconds - minutes - maybe hours dragged by, never once did he stop his movements. At some point, he was practically hauling his legs, most of the strength had fled to his arms. That was fine though. As long as he was still moving, it was fine.

He was prepared to go for a day if he had to, would have, it not for the blinding ray that flashed in his eyes. For a second, he froze, like a deer in headlights. His lungs seized and fingers curled as he turned his head away. He readied himself for whatever was about to come, braced himself to come face to face with the dreaded man himself. Yet, the light that pierced his eyelids was somehow different - warm.

One eye cracked open. Then, miraculously, a sound he wasn't quite expected. A small laugh. Sunlight. Leon was actually seeing sunlight. Whether to believe it or not was his next dilemma. Regardless if it was real or not, he wanted it to be, and that was more than enough to urge his body forward.

He could almost feel the breeze on his face, could swear he could taste it. He reached out a hand and ran his fingers down the grating. It was hot, and for once, it was a welcoming heat. Natural warmth. He ran his hands down the sides of it...great. Screwed on from the outside...of course. No. Leon did not go through all this to be stopped here, like this. Lips pressed together, he nudged back a foot, leaning one shoulder forward.

You got this.

One…

Two…

Leon shoved himself forward, grunting on impact as a dull throb echoed down his arm. The vent covering didn't budge. Again. He rammed himself into the thin metal. This time, and he prayed it wasn't his imagination, there was a whine of metal. His surely bruising shoulder was given no time to register its displeasure when it was rushed once more...and a fourth time. Then fifth. That last time, he gasped when he overshot by an inch.

Yes!

One of the sides was loose. That's all he needed to encourage one last, shove.

It all hit him at once: the sun rays on his clammy skin, the light wind rustling his hair. But, most importantly, the relief of freedom, the promise that came with the sensation of dirt underneath him. He didn't move. Not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want to. He never thought the ground could be so damn comfortable. Slumber was knocking and he was on the verge of answering.

So close; his hand was on the door knob.

Then there was the click of the lock-

"Did...you really think...I would let you...ruin this for me? Hm, Kennedy?"

Eyes still shut, a cool shadow bore over him. He didn't respond. Was it just him, or was it a great deal colder now? Harder to breath, more difficult to think?

"Are you ready to head...back now, and behave like a...good patient would?" Abram panted out between weary breaths.

Go away…

Leon choked down the building dread, but his pounding heart squeezed it back up and then some. So, this was really it, he truly was destined to see his last days with this godforsaken man? The worst part, he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it anymore. He wanted to, be damned if he didn't desperately want to sprint for it.

"Jus'do it…" he murmured, His voice sounded distant on his ears. The question arose: was it even his? He didn't recall sounding so...pathetic. "Do wha'ever you're gonna...do." Tension unraveled from his body as acceptance wove through.

Hands slipped behind his shoulders and under his legs. Even in his half-lucid state, he couldn't help but be impressed. Abram was stronger than Leon gave him credit for.

"Look at the mess you've gotten yourself into…" the older man went on, voice warping, tone and pitch altering with every word. "I knew leaving you alone to this was a bad idea."


	6. Nausea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi)
> 
> Consultant: untranquilizing - Tumblr
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://elillierose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Only a few more chapters to go. ;w;

He swore.

He swore on his goddamn life that he wasn't going to subject himself to another sweltering country. Chris sighed, giving his face a few quick fans with his hand. Beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck, evoking a few twitches.

' _Damn Kennedy_ ,' he thought dryly, voice of his supervisor still in his head, informing him of the lost communications. More harshly than was necessary, he smacked another branch out of the way with a heavy huff: Honestly, could Leon really do nothing on his own without needing someone to save his sorry ass? He couldn't wait for the earful he was going to give the guy for dragging him out here.

The worst part? No one could give him a straight answer about exactly  _where_  said connection was lost. All they knew: it was somewhere in the vicinity of the town.

Chris rolled his eyes. He probably could have solved that Rubik's cube on his own. His gaze wandered up, seeking the sun. At least it was finally getting closer to the evening. This heat was really starting to test his nerves on top of everything. Though, if he had to guess, there was still a few hours left before then. Still, it was something to look forward to. He'd already been circling the perimeter for the last four or five hours.

Maybe he should just wait for nightfall…

Would make searching a hell of a lot easier. He wouldn't have to worry about too many prying eyes and things were quieter too. Easier to hear anything noises that didn't quite belong. Chris bowed his head, ready to settle on his decision when his head snapped back up. His shoulders tensed at the dull 'thud'.

"Hello?" he called out, voice reflecting off the nearby trees. He straightened up, gun raising and grasp on it stiffening. His breath stilled as he began forward, one step carefully placed in front of the next.

"Anyone there?"

For a few seconds, he was met with silence. His gaze scanned the area until… He ducked at the sight of movement. And...was that a groan he heard? Brows pinched, Chris rose back upright, never letting his weapon lower more than a couple degrees. He inched forward, closer until panted breaths met him.

Again, he froze midstep, gaze widened at the form before him.

"Leon…?" he sharply inhaled.

His previous precaution was tossed aside as he quickly closed the distance between them. There, he stood, hovering over the almost lifeless,  _trembling_ body of Leon Kennedy. "Shit…" he muttered. His voice seemed to stir life into the other, but not the kind of reaction he was hoping for. Leon's face tightened and his breathing grew more uneven. "Hey, calm yourself," he whispered, tone unnaturally soft.

Chris crouched. "Can you hear me? Hey? Come on, say something, do something."

He flinched as a rough shiver ran through the smaller man, eliciting an uncharacteristic whimper. "Jus'do it…" It was quiet, but Chris heard it loud and clear.

"Do what?" he asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Do wha'ever you're gonna...do." Leon swallowed, and from where Chris stood, it was clear that little bit was a struggle. Shaking his head, he shifted his gun and carefully slipped both hands under the other and lifted slowly - gently.

"Look at the mess you've gotten yourself into…" he muttered, wrapping both arms securely. "I knew leaving you alone to this was a bad idea." Again, Leon didn't reply, but he did tense in his arms. And, then, a miracle...a sliver of dull grey revealed themselves. However, they lacked their usual focus. "You finally with me?" Chris asked in half-amusement.

"Wha's goin' on," he gasped, chest heaving. Every inhale was a whining gasp almost. It was in that moment, he decided that trying to fight back was a viable option again. "What're you doin'?!"

It took concerningly little to keep his grasp on the man. "Dammit, Leon, will you calm the fuck down? You're gonna make me drop you...on purpose." Fortunately, that did the trick for now, and the other relaxed marginally, head rolling to the side, face against the larger man's shoulder. "What the hell happened?"

There was a shift, presumably a shake of his head, or an attempt of that.

Chris considered pressing the matter, but with the heat he was feeling through his sleeves, he thought better against that for the time being. "We're getting somewhere safe...then I have questions...a lot of them."

There was no response, and when he glanced down, the brunet's eyes were closed again. From his breathing, it was hard to say if he was still conscious or not. Based on the lack of rigidness, he'd vote on that being a 'no'. He couldn't help the smirk that played on his lips. "Just take it easy, man. We're getting this figured out and getting out of here."

There was no response, just the man's continued pained breaths. Chris glanced down, only to catch a glimpse. It was all he needed to know he looked like absolute shit. As he walked, near jogged, he had almost forgotten just how pissed he was when he first got here, how he was prepared to chew this guy's head off. But, looking at him now, he wasn't even sure he wanted to lecture him. From the looks of it, just the thought would have been enough to break him.

' _Seriously, just what did you get yourself into?_ '

* * *

Other than the splitting headache, the only other thing that could have possibly pulled him from blissful sleep was the overwhelming nausea that gripped him. It burned all the way through his chest and at the base of his throat, which convulsed at the sensation. He was barely aware of the pair of hands on him, turning him to his side as every muscle in his body constricted. Tears stung in the corners of his eyes as he retched. One of the hands moved, brushing and holding his hair from his face.

Even though he was positive there was nothing else that could possibly come back up, his stomach was still trying its damnedest to expel something - anything, itself if it had to.

"Fuck…" he croaked before spitting out the foul taste.

"You done?"

Oh yeah, he wasn't...wherever he was...alone. "Chris?" he questioned, squeezing his eyes tighter to try and jog his memory. It did no good, random snippets of the last day were mixed together. "W...What're you...doin'ere?"

Said man couldn't deny the pang of concern when that question lacked the tell-tale spite. Chris paused long enough to help Leon back over, once he was sure he was done. "After you lost communication, I was sent to check in on things," he shrugged. "Though, gotta say, finding you sprawled on the ground is still surprising." He glanced over once, eyes lingering on the sheen of sweat on his face, then the obviously dry lips...not to mention the whole hurling right on the floor.

With one hand, Chris helped lift the other up, and in his other hand, he brought the mouth of a water bottle to Leon's. "Drink," he demanded,

"No thanks…" The thought of ingesting anything had his insides doing flips.

Still, that didn't dissuade Chris. "You're dehydrated. Drink. Or I'm shoving it down your throat. Either way, you're ending up with some water in you. You can decide how." The fiery glare he received for his threat rolled right off. "Even if you throw it back up, it should help."

"If it's on my terms…" Leon muttered, 'snatching' the bottle from Chris' hands, nearly spilling it all over the place. He took a couple tentative sips before shoving it back.

"Better than nothing, I guess," the larger man sighed, setting the water aside. "Now, your turn; what happened? And tell me everything. None of your shit."

Leon appeared to be on the verge of passing out again, but he did well to fight it off. He gulped down the lingering sickness and forced his eyes to open and stay that way. However, the sudden brightness made that challenging.

He slung an arm over his eyes and sighed heavily, almost gagging with the exhale. "Drugged," he said flatly. But even he knew that wouldn't be enough to sate Chris' prying mind. "Was taken."

"Clearly."

Leon ignored that. "Taken by...I dunno, some 'ex-Umb'ella scientist? Man's outta his mind...thinks 'e can...cure it?" He shifted again.

"Cure what?" the other pressed, tone hardening.

He was offered a stiff glare. "What'do'ya think?" He has to pause, take a moment to catch his breath. "Where're we?"

Slowly, Chris rose to his feet. "Outskirts of the town, found an unused...shed, I think," he replied flatly. "Leon...tell me. Are you infected?" Labored breaths slowed and eyes ceased their wandering and instead stared straight at the ceiling. "You are…" It wasn't a question this time.

A sharp nod.

"Shit...Leon," Chris breathed out, raising a hand to his head. "How the HELL did that happen!" He regretted his volume instantly when the other flinched, gritting his teeth. He stepped closer once again, for the first time, actually  _looking_ at the man. He was pale, dangerously so. He already knew there was a fever, a steadily rising one at that. His hand ran down his face and fell to his side. "Any chance this is another parasite we can just, I dunno, zap out or whatever was done last time about that?"

"Doubt...that's an op'ion," Leon whispered.

Chris narrowed his gaze. "What aren't you telling me? Is there more to this?"

"There…" he swallowed again, battling a second wave of nausea. "There was more than...one i-injection." He turned his head away from the other, and sure enough, he could easily locate the two dots on his neck. "And…" he let out a bitter chuckle, "what's better...they're altered strains. H-his own...creations?" Leon waved a weak hand.

Slowly, Chris lowered himself to the floor before his urge to punch something grew into a need. "Tell me  _everything._ "

The recap was slow, tedious, as Leon had to occasionally pause to breath or gag again. But eventually he got through all he could remember, all he could make sense of. There were likely details here and there missing or recalled incorrectly, but he was pretty sure he got the gist of it right. It was good enough. All that explaining left him completely exhausted. Also, Chris noticed, the more he went on, the more he was scratching at his neck...near the injection sites.

"Are you sure that's everything?" he asked.

Another nod. "Yea-" He gasped, fingers curling. Once more, his hand shot to his neck, but this time it clasped over the small wounds. His breathing hitched, raking back out with a whine.

"Hey, Leon, you alright?" Chris was back on his feet in an instant. Without hesitation, his right arm was under the other man's shoulders, lifting him slightly off his makeshift bed. His jaw clenched at the heat wafting off - a lot hotter than it was a couple hours ago. With his free hand, he forced the brunet's hand from his neck. His own heart cramped at the sight. The wounds, they were larger, redder with streaks leading from them. No, more like veins…

Just as suddenly as it came on, his body relaxed and his breathing evened a small amount. "M'fine...I-I'm fine," he stuttered, licking dry lips. It was impossible to take his word for it when his eyes were wide and pulse racing.

"You better be. Because you have to hold out long enough for us to figure out how to deal with this."

Leon only offered him a contrived smile. "Doin' my best...sir." He half expected to be dropped with that tone.

"You said that Abram guy was trying to create a cure?" Chris questioned, eyes boring into Leon's. The other nodded slowly. "So, he likely has something that could work. Based on everyone he's tried on, all the research, he's bound to have something, right?"

"Yeah...but-"

"Then I just have to go in there and get it." He carefully lowered the man back down.

By some miracle, Leon bolted upright at that. "No...no you…." he trailed off, lowering his head. That was all Chris needed to know what was about to come next. He blinked heavily, one hand on the other's upper arm as he eased him back down.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that."

It took Leon a few moments to retort. "And you shouldn't...go-go barging...down there." A slow and shaky exhale, and he seemed mostly over his bout of dizziness. "I don't..need anyone, especially you...savin-"

"If I didn't show up when I did, you'd probably be dying in a puddle of your own vomit right about now." A thick silence enveloped the two. "Go on, tell me I'm wrong. Because you can't. Just admit it, admit you need help, Leon." He shook his head as turned his back to him. "It doesn't matter, unless you can stop me yourself, I'm going. Try not to die while I'm gone. And don't forget to try drinking some more of that water. Don't want come back to you all shriveled up."

When he pulled the door open, Leon was slightly confused at the lack of daylight, but didn't voice his puzzlement. He must have been out for longer than he thought.

Chris got one foot out the door before:

"Wait." It was hoarse.

"Nothing you can say is going to change my mi-" He turned to find the brunet's hand outstretched, finger's loosely grasping a white rectangle.

Leon gave a sideways grin. "This might...come in handy."

Not another word was spoken. Chris took the accepted key card and offered the other man one last nod before walking out and closing the door behind him. Alone now, Leon finally let his front crumble away. Instantly, the moment he could no longer hear footsteps, he turned to his side and curled up, knees drawn.

He forced himself to take in air slow and steadily, hoping that would help dim the discomfort. But, concentrating on it made every one that much more prominent. Damn, everything was on fire, everything ached. Every breath in was a serrated gasp and every breath out was a match lit aflame. He couldn't believe he was thinking this,  _pleading._

' _Please hurry.'_

* * *

What a mess.

What an unmistakable shit show Leon had provided him front row tickets to. A simple rescue mission turned into 'rescue and take over my mission.' There would have to be some later agreements to never let him go anywhere on his own again. He shook his head, shined his light down and took a quick look at the card. His eyes fell instantly to the picture.

So, that was the guy, huh? Sure didn't look like much, that was for sure. If there really were just him and the other guy Leon mentioned, he should be able to get in and out real quick.

"Abram Volkov," he said aloud, cringing as the name rolled off his tongue.

Without bearing the extra weight, he managed to make it back to where he found Leon much quicker. He stopped there. Remembering the state he found him in, there was not a chance in Hell he could have made it far after getting out. He scanned the area, took a step and scanned again. Another step - the ground shifted. He lifted his foot and crouched to investigate.

Vent covering. It was different shades of grey. And letting his gaze travel more, the color started to make sense. A few boulders that matched the pattern sat nearby. He reached out and tapped his knuckles against one.

Bingo - fake.

He shined his light around, and it didn't take long to find exactly what he was looking for. The vent he crawled through like a dingy rat. Chris couldn't stop the nearly admirable hum. He inspected the inside, and his hum turned into a grunt. It looked like he would be able to fit...but it would be a tight squeeze.

Making sure everything was secure, he dropped to all fours and crawled the first couple of feet. Already, the discomfort of the cramped space and the heat was irritating him further. The moment all this was over, Leon owed him; owed him big. He tried to follow the path as closely as the directions he was given, but honestly, half of what he was told made little sense, and there were so many 'actuallys' and 'maybes' that he wasn't even sure Leon himself knew what he was talking about.

It mattered not, he just needed in anyway. Just take the first opening.

He crawled for a few minutes more, sweat beading down the back of his neck when a tremor beckoned him to come to a full stop.

"The hell…" he muttered as another - much stronger - rattled the metal around him. He was quiet, deathly so. Only his huffs bounced back, which those too, stilled after another couple of seconds.

For about 30 seconds, all was silent. Just as he released a relieved breath, there was one more quake, this one throwing him to the side with a gasp. Metal groaned around him, as if something were crushing down...or around. Before he could fully place the pieces together, his theory was confirmed by claws, four of them on one side and one on the other, piercing through the vents. They missed him by mere inches.

There was one sound that broke through the commotion, a sound he quickly realized were words - a question asked in a gravelly voice. He swallowed thickly when his brain processed it.

"Where's my...subject?"


	7. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi)
> 
> Consultant: [Untranquilizing](https://untranquilizing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://elillierose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And only 2 more chapters after this. Sorry for the delay, I've been had all these done, I've just been terrible at getting them uploaded for some reason...

He wanted to sleep; every inch of his body was practically begging for it. But, every time Leon's eyes came close to closing, they snapped back open and drifted back to the door. How long has it been? Probably no more than a few minutes - twenty at the most.

Too long, he decided.

Not that there was anything he could do about it but lie there and wait. Wait for either Chris to come back or wait until death came to retrieve him. He closed his eyes again, this time trying to will himself to sleep. All of his instincts told him not to, but he knew there was a desperate need for rest. His breathing fluctuated between quick and shallow to deep and wavering, and everything in between.

Leon cleared his throat and tried to turn over. He only made it halfway when he was punched in the gut with that same nauseous sensation. There was just enough time to rotate his head enough before the heaving started.

The first few times, nothing came up. Then, thick and bitter, something was finally expelled onto the floor. His eyes were tightly shut as shudders claimed him. Taking in panting breaths, Leon slowly - carefully - leaned back and swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. Cracking one eye open, it instantly widened, along with the other as he stared at the stain smeared across his skin.

Blood.

He grew light-headed as the taste on the back of his tongue finally registered. Ringing pierced his eardrums. Everything echoed, seemingly off the inside of his skull. His own pumping heart was starting to become too loud.

He blinked and blotches of oil spilled into his vision. He tried to blink them away, but every time he opened his eyes, the black coated more of his sight.

' _No…'_

* * *

"Where's my...subject?"

"Dammit!" Chris blurted out as he began to slide down the metal - still whining as claws dug into it. There was nothing to grab onto and no way to slow his momentum. One second he was waiting in confusion, and the next he was plummeting towards a tile floor.

He hit the ground with a hiss. But, there was no time to come to his senses. The moment he was on solid ground, Chris rolled to the side. Lucky for him, it was the right choice when a second set of claws stabbed where he just was. His heart was hammering. What the hell was this; he didn't remember Leon saying anything about a damn monster down here!

"Where is heee?!" it screamed - nearly wheezed.

' _What is it talking about?'_ Chris thought. ' _Subject?'_

Unless… He jumped to his feet and narrowly dodged another swipe, this one managing to take out half a wall. "You mean Leon?" he asked, finally raising his weapon. The creature, which looked oddly like… "Abram?", let out a shuddering roar. Chris could practically hear his mind melting from the sheer volume.

"Your 'subject'?" he pressed, voice tight. Something must have snapped. "People aren't your subjects!" He released a few rounds before rolling to the side. Chris inhaled sharply at the fire that ripped through his left upper arm. " _He_  is not your subject!" He fired the rest of his ammo.

When the last bullet was fired, it echoed off the walls and was followed by a hefty silence. Abram stared down at the now smaller man, face slowly contorting, eyes bulging just a little more. Chris cringed as the man's muscles morphed before his eyes. Did all those shots even do anything to this guy? Other than piss him off more?

Another drawn out cry, one that shook the whole room, and Abram took a slow step forward. "G've'em back…" he snarled. "I-I'm...s'close." He took in a couple deliberate inhales through clenched teeth. "I almost have it!" In an instant, he was swiping again, with both hands. Just like that, he was in a frenzy, barely paying attention to where he was attacking.

On the other end of the attack, Chris was too busy ducking and dodging to form any sort of coherent counter attack.

"You're gonna take the whole -" Chris grunted when a particular leap jarred his arm - "place down at this rate!"

Another clawed hand aimed his way, and he found his chance to finally duck under and make a run straight for the door. He didn't risk a glance back, just prayed on the likelihood that maneuvering around with that abomination of a body would be a hindrance. As much as he wanted nothing more than to give this bastard everything he had coming, time wasn't something he had on his side.

Leon was steadily getting worse - and without knowing exactly what was going on inside of him, there was no telling how long he had. He wasn't priority, he knew that, but he  _had_ to find Abram's research. Anything that would give them a chance at fighting the virus.

He kept his eyes forward, trying to focus on the goal. One foot in front of the other.

One more step, and Chris nearly lost his balance with another quake that traveled up his legs.

' _Shit!'_

He was close. The hairs on Chris' neck were lifting with the breath that huffed just a few feet back. How was this guy so damn fast? Already regretting his decision, the man swallowed and took a peek over his shoulder. A groan tumbled out and he forced his legs to move faster, as fast as they could. Abram was moving fast alright. In fact, he was using all four limbs to propel himself forward, practically leaping down the hall.

There had to be something he could do, something to slow his pursuit. Chris' chest heaved with every breath and his head turned from side to side. For the most part, the walls were empty. Left turn. Still, eerily blank. His eyes then fell on something, from his distance, it appeared to be a fire extinguisher.

"Bingo!"

He sprinted, covering the distance in record time. Ripping it from the wall, ignoring the searing in his arm, he rolled it across the floor behind him. Pulling out his pistol, he turned and gave it barely a second thought and fired.

Without reluctance, Chris dove down an intersecting hall just as an explosion erupted, replacing all sound with a sharp ringing. Just underneath the blaring buzzing, there was a deep, pained growl. Despite his body aching and throbbing, Chris pushed himself up and stumbled to the nearest door. He gave it a few shoves, but nothing - it wouldn't budge.

' _Come on…!'_

He rammed his shoulder against it, hand brushing over something jutting from the wall. A lock. Swearing under his breath, Chris mentally slapped himself. Of course, the damn key card. Within seconds, he had the door unlocked and threw himself in, keeping low as it swung shut behind him.

Panting for breath, he waited there until things began to still. Taking just a couple more minutes to be sure, he slowly got to his feet and brushed himself off. He took a few steps deeper into the room, taking a quick glance around. He only paused when his feet crunched down on something - glass.

Now that he really looked, there was a lot of it, on the floor and on the counter. It was a complete mess in there. Other than the broken glass, there was blood, or what he assumed to be blood. It was difficult to tell with everything merging into one, all the liquids pooling together. Chris walked farther in, picking up one of the unbroken vials and read the label:

"542."

They all had labels with numbers. Most of the ones that were intact did; there were a few that were left blank. All of those were filled with a red substance that looked an awfully lot like blood, though some were darker and thicker than others. He scanned a little more, eyes landing on a clipboard. He almost disregarded it, but one part of it stuck out like a sore thumb.

'Name: Leon Scott Kennedy'

His brows knit together and his entire body rose about a degree in temperature. Slowly, he plucked the forms and began to gloss them over.

Name: Leon Scott Kennedy

Sex: M

Age: 33

Patient: 93

Day 1: 14, June, 2010

Patient arrived in a fairly healthy condition, drowsy due to sedatives, but relatively good condition. Since arrival, patient has been reasonably passive with little signs of aggression. Patient has also been administered a small amount the diluted serum '615'. Awaiting results.

* * *

Day 2: 15, June, 2010

It has been twelve hours since administration: patient is showing obvious signs of discomfort. He has yet to lose consciousness, but appears to be going in and out of moments of lucidity. Other than mild distress, patient is handling the dose well, his body is fighting the infection impressively.

First sample has been gathered from the patient. As expected, he was confused and still drowsy and fatigued from the administrations. Patient tried, for a moment, to flee, but the serum has already taken a toll on his physical condition. Upon arrival in his quarters, the patient was quick to fall asleep. Even during rest, signs of discomfort were visible. A fever was soon developed, slight, but evident. Patient has since woken up, movements still sluggish and delayed.

It is now 9:24. Patient will be provided with a light meal and water, and time will be given to recuperate. Another administration will be given once he has had time to adjust for a few more hours.

It's 12:46, patient is now back for a second dose, this time of serum '542'. Before arrival, I was informed of an outburst of aggression, but that has yet to be determined if it was a result of the previous serum or not. There are also signs of irritability. Serum has been administered. In less than a minute, patient is showing instant signs of severe discomfort. Clear signs of a progressing fever; body is trying to launch an immune response with no obvious indication of success. The injection is advancing quicker than expected and patient is starting to lose consciousness.

Fever continued to escalate at a dangerous rate, counter measures had to be taken and the alpha vaccine was administered. The results were instantaneous: Patient showed instant relief, though a high fever still remained. Eyes are dilated and patient seems unresponsive but conscious. Progression of serum '542' seems to have come to a halt.

However, patient is still in distress; I will draw another sample and observe what could have possibly gone wrong. They are in obvious pain, slipping in and out of lucidity. It is yet to be known if they are still aware of their environment, but the patient is showing sudden signs of fear, even in their confused state.

This can't be - it's not supposed to do this, they're not supposed to be doing this! The serums, they're changing, no, they're bonding - mixing. The vaccine was enough to suppress the original serum, but the merged ones have yet to be affected. The patient will be placed in one of the observation rooms for closer surveillance.

Checking patient's vitals and symptoms:

Temperature: 102.4℉

Pulse: 124

Blood Pressure: 147/93

Respiration Rate: 32

Eyes are dilated. Showing signs of varicose veins. Will continue to watch the patient for further developments.

15:35 and patient is still awake. Despite clear exhaustion, he is still conscious and lucid: Possibly signs of insomnia, though that has yet to be determined. There also appears to be signs of dehydration and loss of appetite.

The more he read, the more his fingers crinkled the papers. Soon enough, they were shaking to the point where he could barely focus on the words.

"You son of a bitch…" he nearly growled, folding the papers and stuffing them in a pocket. At least he knew of at least one vial that should help. He wasted no time, reading off the numbers as quickly and carefully as he could.

"405...693...284...046!" He pinched the top of it, making sure to show this one extra care. Only problem now was the fact that he was injected with more than one virus...there had to be other cures then. His search continued for any piece of paper he could get his hands on. So far, not a single one had anything remotely useful on them. What little patience he had left was quickly draining.

A pile started to accumulate behind him, all balled up, useless information. Once all the forms on the counter were looked over, he took to the drawers, flippin through them at a much faster pace. It wasn't until he got to the bottom most drawer that he came across something that peaked his interest.

'Beta Vaccines'

His mouth pressed into a firm line. He already knew there was a strong chance of none of these serving any good, but there was no other choice to be had. He skimmed through, looking for the numbers he read in Leon's file. In no time, he had the other number he needed - '073'.

Chris searched through cabinets and cupboards, practically shoving all the other vials and equipment out of the way. More than one thing shattered against the floor, adding to the mess. His hands moved with less care until his shoving escalated into tossing. In the middle of his rummaging, he froze as a few he was reaching for shook, clacking together.

Again, his pace quickened, fingers filtering through on autopilot. Then there is was.

'073'.

Chris gave a silent thanks to whatever being there was for this small miracle. Like the first, this dose was pocketed. Now, to get back to Leon and hope these actually worked. On the way to the door, he made sure to snatch up one of the unused syringes - he definitely wasn't about to risk anything else getting into the man's bloodstream.

' _I'll be back as soon as I can…'_

He pressed himself against the wall by the door and took a quick peek out. Aside from the few tremors that still journeyed through the facility, it was quiet. Holding his breath, Chris swiped the card and carefully poked his head out. He glanced to his left - nothing. Then, the righ-

Blunt force struck the side of his head, sending him right to the floor. He swiftly recovered from the shock of the blow and got back to his feet. Raising his head, he was preparing to be face to face with the man himself. But, his lips slightly parted as he took in the sight.

"You're not Abram…"

* * *

 _His blood was_ moving _. He could feel it. It slithered through his veins and charged through his limbs - through his_ heart _. Leon's hand was on his chest, clutching in a futile attempt to dull the source. It stung and burned, all the way down to the tips of his fingers. His lungs weren't faring much better. They were being constricted tighter with every ounce of air they were given._

_He didn't know where he was anymore, he couldn't feel his surroundings through the fire engulfing him. Leon forced his eyes open, but all he could make out was endless red, crimson that pulsed with the pounding of his heart._

_There was life there, he realized. All around of him._ Inside  _him. And the only thing he could think about was Las Plagas; it felt almost identical to the parasite. Another strong crawl down his arm and his attention snapped to the appendage. A panicked whimper slipped at the darkened streaks trailing down his arm, darkening little by little. Leon twitched as he tried to move, to shake it away._

_It tingled, borderlining on that of electrical. Like a sponge, the specimen absorbed his strength, giving him no other option than to drop his head back. Before he slipped back into darkness, he saw them, saw the tendrils creeping into the forefront of his view._

* * *

His entire body jolted as he gulped down air. Leon's breaths weezed, seemingly making it that much more difficult to calm himself. Without moving, he could tell he was drenched; his shirt clung to his chest and his hair to his face. He was still on his back, exactly where he last remembered.

At least he knew he wasn't back  _there._ That helped settle him slightly. He was alright, he would be alright; he just needed to calm down. He was here and Chris was… A lump developed in his throat and he swiftly cleared it away. His eyes darted around, searching for said man. Nothing. Painstakingly, he propped himself on his side, lifting onto one elbow. His head remained bowed as he took in deep inhales.

The fuzz at the edges of his vision were beginning to retract, but not by much. After a measly few seconds, his arm quivered with the exertion and he had to unceremoniously drop himself back down.

He couldn't even sit up on his own anymore, could barely move without inviting more waves of nausea or torrents of heat. His eyelids fluttered; those too strained to listen to his commands. There was a growing thought - fear - in the back of his mind. The chance of Chris coming back to...something else, was becoming a more likely reality than he cared to admit.

Leon raised his hand to scratch at his neck, the itching in it was becoming unbearable. His fingers hardly brushed over and sent a bolt of agony straight up and down. He let out a strained cry and yanked his hand away. Through bleary eyes, he gazed at his fingers, seeing easily the red shining through. He swallowed convulsively, sure he'd really throw up this time. Now it was processing: the cool breeze on his neck, the unnatural stinging, itching and biting that resonated from the small wounds. Every alarm bell sounded off.

"Chris!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda makes me sad that there's only 2 chapters left.


	8. Ulcers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi)
> 
> Consultant: [Untranquilizing](https://untranquilizing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://elillierose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Welp, only one more chapter to come after this one~

Chris wiped a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, smirking slightly at the figure before him. From the looks of him, it would take more than a punch or two to take him out. But, still definitely completely human as far as he could tell.

"You must be the other one Leon mentioned," he muttered, straightening up.

Clearly not much of one for words, the brute sauntered closer. He carried an air of confidence that made Chris feel almost small, though only for a split second. His uncertainty faltered the moment the other was within striking distance, and he instantly returned the favor with a quick uppercut to the man's jaw. He hissed slightly at the sting that jarred through his hand. This guy was nearly solid as a rock.

He put a couple feet between the two of them, drawing a knife. "Are you going to let me through, big guy? Or would you prefer I just step over your dead body?"

The heavy step forward served as a good enough response. So, this is how they were doing it then. Chris grit his teeth painfully together, blade gripped numbingly in his grasp. Had to do this as quickly as possible. He already wasted enough time down here. Chris flipped his knife once as the other pushed himself forward. Immediately, he crouched and slammed all of his weight into the other man's chest. He hissed as pain spread from his wounded arm, but he shoved forward regardless.

He let out a grunt when he threw the other, effectively knocking him off his feet. The momentum, however, carried him with it, landing Chris on top of the brute. He didn't hesitate to bring the sharpened edge to the man's throat.

"Last chance. I don't want to, but I will kill you if I have to," he forced his breaths to come out evenly, allowing no weariness to show.

He lowered the knife until it bit into flesh, beckoning the first flash of fear Chris saw in those dim eyes. The brute's tongue flicked, nervously licking chapped lips. Chris had himself situated on his chest, pinning the man down to the best of his ability, although he was sure all it would take was for this guy to buck, and he'd be flying. But, with death literally a few pounds of pressure away, he seemed hesitant to do any fighting back.

"What's it gonna be?" Chris seethed, digging the blade about half a centimeter deeper. The other let out a small whine, eyes locked onto the weapon in Chris' hands. Slowly, gingerly, his mouth began to open and a few shuddering breaths huffed out.

The air stilled and bunched up around them. Something was on the verge of snapping, but neither of them knew from which it would happen. But something was bound to give, and it was soon apparent what exactly that was. Another tremor and the all too familiar, enraged roar reverberated through his bones. Chris let a quick swear escape, and his attention quavered for a moment too long. The blade shifted, just enough for the other to regain the composure needed to lurch to the side. By the time Chris righted himself again, the monster of a man was already halfway down the hall. With another tremor, Chris fully understood his need to get away as quickly as possible.

He seriously had to lose this guy. It was either that or actually finish him off. Whatever he chose, allowing this  _thing_  to follow him out of here was not an option.

"Dammit," he swore under his breath. "Guess I can't let ya run around and cause a commotion." As the tremors progressed, Chris quickly reloaded and breathed deeply through his nose. "Just hang on for a few more minutes if you can, Leon."

He patted his pocket once and took a mental note of the two vials within. The second his hand fell away, his other, gun and all, rose to block his face from flying debris. His teeth grit together as he was thrown back, pelted with the fragments. Dust fogged the hallway, obscuring everything other than the monstrosity of an outline before him. For a moment, all he could hear was the heavy, ragged breathing.

Chris debated taking a breath of his own, debating whether or not that would be enough to rile the beast. Apparently, all it really took was a thick swallow and Abram was reaching out for him. Without hesitation, Chris unleashed a barrage of bullets at the man's hand and successfully severed one of his sharpened, clawed fingers. The oversized appendage dropped, spraying an arc of blood to the floor with a shriek from its owner. He didn't give the creature the chance to recover and aimed at another. He got about halfway when he again ran out of ammo.

He muttered a swear under his breath as Abram reeled back, flailing with his other hand. Chris rolled to his left, hissing at the loose debris that pelted his back. This wasn't cutting it. Regular bullets were almost a waste on this abomination. And at the rate he was going, he would run out of ammo altogether before this guy went down.

There had to be something else he could do…

' _Think!'_  he screamed internally, racking his brain for anything. There wasn't much time for that when he was dodging again. He really wasn't given more than a second at a time to so much as catch his breath.

For now, the only option was to run - again. So, he did, without a second's hesitation. Hopefully the pain would be enough to slow the other down at least a litte. He scoffed at the sounds just mere feet behind him. Why would he ever think he'd be lucky enough for that? Abram was destroying every bit of structure as he went. He really was taking the place down, one wall at a time. Only a matter of time before the whole place collapsed. Chris couldn't help the corner of his mouth twitching. Maybe he didn't have to fight back after all.

"I swear, if I die in here, Leon…" he muttered.

He rounded a corner, a corner that lasted a whole three more seconds as Abram followed suit. Chris made it down the length of another corridor when a resounding 'ping' followed by a whining hiss caught his attention. His eyes widened and his breath hitched. He could smell it: chemicals with a touch of pungence. Chris's nose instinctively wrinkled at the aroma, but he knew exactly what it was.

Teeth sank into his bottom lip as a single thought crossed his mind. It was risky, extremely risky. But, he was desperate, and Abram wasn't slowing down, and there were too many factors to take into consideration for a man literally running for more than just his own life.

His breath left him, and he twisted his upper body, still willing his legs to move as quickly as they could. He couldn't afford to fuck this up. He had one shot.

Chris raised his pistol, and took aim, just above Abram's head. One quick, silent prayer, and he fired a single bullet. He ducked around the next corner, one hand placed protectively over his pocket as flames licked at his back. It was like they were burning holes right through him. Another eruption and he was propelled forward, barely registering a sharp pain in his head before everything plummeted into darkness.

* * *

Crackling teased the edge of his mind, as did the slowly intensifying heat hitting his face in waves. An unnatural groan filtered to his ears, and it took Chris a few seconds to realize it had come from him. He squeezed his eyes tighter, waiting for the initial aches to pass. Chris lay there for a total of ten seconds before his memory came flooding back. He snapped out of his disorientation and his eyes widened, worsening his throbbing head.

That was the least of his worries as he pushed himself up and willed himself the fight off the assaulting dizziness. After a few coughs shuddered his form, Chris slowly - painfully - pushed himself to his feet. From the looks of things, most of the dust had settled with the exception of embers still drifting around him. A few kissed his face, leaving behind a second of warmth before fading away.

For a split second, his heart hammered and his throat tightened. His hand went right to his pocket. At the feeling under his palm, he let out a sigh of relief. Miraculously, the vials were still in one piece.

Second priority:

Chris' attention traveled the the source of the flames, still full of life. He staggered towards them, teeth grit, and peeked around the corner. One arm raised, shielding his eyes from both the heat and the sheer brightness. Only the snapping of the fire greeted him. Slowly, he peered from over his hand.

"Finally dead, you son of a bitch?" he muttered, hardly a whisper. He gazed upon the charred remains for a few seconds more, making sure he was satisfied. Not so much as a spasm. Now, to get the hell out of this place.

He turned and focused on putting one foot in front of the other, which was a lot harder than he remembered. There were too many doors in this place as far as he was concerned. He peeked into each window, and if he didn't see a way up, he moved on. After a few minutes, he was able to pick up the pace once the worst of the sluggishness dissipated. Luckily, his determinations was rewarded, and he finally came across a set of stairs.

Getting up them, though, was a bit on the tricky side. He had to resort to pressing himself against the wall, depending on that to keep himself upright. Upon reaching the top, he leaned his head back, as if his troubles were draining from his mind.

Without a glance back, he shoved the door open, nearly breaking it from its hinges. Immediately, another kind of warmth hit him and his moment of comfort fled. He gazed up...at the sky - the blue sky - hued with morning rays.

"Fuck…"

' _How long was I out?'_

Soreness forgotten, his chest tightened. He was towards the edge of town, maybe a few minutes from the forest. There was nothing else to do but run. His body begged for him to stop and take a breather, and he hushed it with a growl. The entire time, he cursed himself. How could he have been so damn careless? He knew it was plain desperation that had kicked in, but what kind of excuse was that? He trained for these kind of situations. The fact he resorted to such reckless actions, actions that were better suited for a certain someone, it was downright shameful.

Chris followed the mental map in his head, one he hoped wasn't jumbled from his possible concussion. If he remembered correctly, the shack was just a few more minutes into the forest. He was only a couple more away. His mouth dried as the structure came into view between a few trees.

He pushed himself faster, ignoring his pleading lungs. Like a bulldozer, he nearly threw himself through the door with heavy breaths.

"Leon!" he called out. He didn't care that there may have been a pitch difference in his tone. His eyes took a moment to focus on the still form, lying exactly where he left him. When he got no response, he called out again, quieter, calmer, but with no less urgency. As soon as his heart slowed by a beat, he stepped farther in.

Still, no movement. Not even his chest…

"Hey…" he called, covering a few more feet. "You gonna say something, or just lie there like a useless dumbass?"

Chris exhaled and didn't draw back in as he closed the final bit of distance. He swallowed and nearly choked as the lump forced its way down his throat. He crouched, fingers hovering just centimeters over the patchy flech covering the man's neck. Ulcers. He fought a gag at the sight. They covered the side of his neck, stretching up to his face and down his shoulder as far as Chris could see.

"Leon?" he tried again, voice below a whisper.

Silence.

He sat back, eyes never leaving the other man's pallid features. His sigh instantly turned into a snarl and he took the vials from his pocket. "I did not go through all that  _shit_ for this," he fumed as he stabbed the syringe into the first and extracted a healthy amount. Hopefully this stuff couldn't cause an overdose.

He gripped it and plunged the needle into Leon's arm. He then repeated the same process with the other. It was all or nothing. If these didn't work, there was no going back. Even if the place wasn't destroyed, he doubted either of them could handle the time loss. Once both were administered, he tossed the syringe aside and held his breath.

"Come on…" he whispered, free hand tapping the side of the other's face. It was cool to the touch, not quite cold. That was a good sign, right? There was still at least some color there.

A few seconds passed with no changes.

"Come on, already," he muttered, louder. He tapped harder. Leon's head lolled to the side; the wounds on his neck pulled with the movement.

"Come on, you piece of shit!" he shouted, grabbing the front of the brunet's shirt and pulling him 's head only fell back. Chris stayed like that, watching for a sign, any indication of life. But there was nothing, just his thumping heart in his ears and his heaving chest. Bitterness coated his tongue and he finally lowered Leon back down.

Jaw clenching, he pressed his fingers against the good side of Leon's neck...still nothing.

Nothing at all.

Chris pulled himself to his feet and turned his back to the man. One hand combed through soot-peppered hair and a humorless chuckle slipped out. This was really it then, was it? He glanced back over his shoulder at the still body. How long had it been? And how long did he have before…

He couldn't finish that thought; he felt sick to his stomach. As much as fault pulled at his heart, he knew what he had to do next, knew what Leon would want him to do next. He didn't know the guy all that well, but he at least knew he'd never want to turn into one of  _them._  Chris took a deep, unsteady breath as his fingers glided over his pistol. He still had a few bullets left. That was plenty - all he needed was one.

Lifting the weapon, he stepped back around to face Leon and slowly lifted the pistol until it was in line with Leon's head. His jaw set, he held the gun as steady as he could.

"Sorry, I did the best I could," he whispered before the shot rang out.


	9. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by: [markofthemoros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros) and [DragonRiderSayomi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRiderSayomi/pseuds/DragonRiderSayomi)
> 
> Consultant: [Untranquilizing](https://untranquilizing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://elillierose.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And here it is, the last chapter~ I think a few people thought the last one was the last, but I assure you, even I am not that cruel to leave a story like that without a warning. BUT, I am glad it had the impact I had hoped for. XD Anyway, this has been a blast, and I hope this last part ties it up nicely. I do want to write more for this fandom though, so there is a likelihood of more Leon torture to come. XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts~

_All around him was the deafening silence of a void. The only light that appeared to remain was a faint, pulsing flash behind his eyes. Leon's breath hitched and his heart faltered with it. His hand raised to his chest, nails clawing at heated flesh as throbs radiated through his torso. How long had he been floating now? He lost count minutes - hours - before now. He had expected to lose the battle ages ago; however, there was a strand of hope that continued to tether him. And damn was it holding strong when he had watched all others snap under the growing strain._

_He wasn't going to lie, everything hurt. It was as though each individual cell in his body was trying to eat themselves. Leon lifted his other palm to eye level and gazed it at: still as normal as ever. No physical sign of the war that was raging in his bloodstream. He blinked heavily, barely noticing the afterimages of a completely different version of his hand: blemished with lesions._

_The appearance no longer bothered him._

_His gaze remained forward when his hand dropped. Slowly, Leon closed his eyes and leaned his head back - more waiting, it seemed. He wondered which would happen first: dying from the pain, or going insane._

_There was the ever present question that followed: was he weak for craving the former?_

_Honestly, it was preferable. He would rather that option out of all the others that crossed his mind. It was better than being stuck in this hell of a purgatory for all of eternity. And it sure as shit was better than having something that wasn't him claim his own body. And yet, as desperately as he desired it, he couldn't bring himself to sever that last shackle anchoring him down._

_There was something whispering in the back of his mind, encouraging him to just hold out as long as he could._

_He gasped. A chill flushed through his veins. The stark difference between the two temperatures was almost enough steel his lungs. But what was initially a shock, eventually transformed into relief. It was overwhelming, clouding his senses with a sheet of ice to combat the raging fire._

_Leon nearly choked as every muscle constricted with the rush of the chill. It was then he realized he couldn't actually breathe. He was gasping for air, but none of it was making it past his lips, it seemed. His heart raced, accelerating the sensation until everything began to grow numb, both mind and body._

_What the hell was happening?_

'Is this really what dying feels like?'  _he thought, the edges of his vision pulsing with the beat of his heart. Soon enough, his body began to relax, no longer able to tolerate this stark, sudden difference._

_A new kind of pain started setting in, entering him as the previous heat exited. Whereas the last was just that: near-debilitating fire, this was a dull throb through his whole body, firing off like an electrical current. He blinked once, twice, the image before him growing fuzzy every time his eyes opened back up._

_After what felt like a lifetime, he finally drew in a breath that seared his throat and lungs. Then another, and before long they were coming in rapid succession. He closed his eyes one last time, as the world around him wavered; the air itself thickening and crumbling until it all just…_

* * *

Chris tried to hold the gun as steady as he could, but the slight tremor running down his arm wavered his aim. His breath out stung his nostrils as he tightened his grasp on his pistol. One more breath in and he held it there.

"Sorry, I did the best I could," he muttered, low enough not to hear the unsteadiness of his own words. His finger, squeezed slowly. He blinked, aim twitching, just as the shot rang out, and he was sure his heart stopped where he stood. Eyes widened, the man stared down: at the still form before him, and at the smoldering hole in the floor just inches from Leon's head.

For a second or two, only the echo of the shot bounced back. He dropped to his knees next to the brunet. He was sure he saw it. No way his mind was playing tricks on him; there was definitely a breath there. If his experience told him anything, it was that the dead did not breathe.

"H-Hey!" he stammered out, unintentionally harsh word causing him to inwardly flinch. Pressing his lips into a tight line, he lowered his head until his ear was resting on the man's chest. He remained there for two seconds...then three...four...fi-

' _Thump'_

He wasn't sure whether to believe it or not, so he listened for a second. And, after a few more moments, there it was: another heart beat. His fingers again found the side of the man's neck, and it was there - a weak pulse. Faint and faltering, but there. At first, there was that flood of relief, and he didn't dare move. But, on the other hand, there was a part of him that wanted to punch the guy square in the nose for making him worry for even a minute.

Chris could forgive that for now. All that mattered was that Leon was alive. Still looked like death on a bad day, but alive nonetheless. He slowly sat back up, carefully, as if his movement would ruin everything. A sigh sounded and he leaned back, eyes locked on the subtly rising chest. Guess there was nothing else left to do aside from wait. This wasn't over just yet, and from the looks of it, Leon was just barely clinging to the world of the living. To be honest, Chris wasn't sure his heart could handle a second round of death.

He prepared himself for a long day and propped himself on the wall across from the other, where he could get a nice watch over him. It wouldn't be until the next day a helicopter was sent to retrieve him. They would just have to hold out until then. And he'd be damned if he was even going to think about leaving Leon's side until then.

For the first hour, nothing changed. Wasn't the best he hoped for, but as far as he was concerned, no change was better than one for the ' knee bounced as the second hour rolled around. The third hour had come and gone with him barely noticing. But, as it neared the fifth, a pained groan broke the silence.

In an instant, Chris crawled over to the other's side just as his face twisted and turned to the side. He said nothing as Leon slowly came around. Keeping his attention locked, the larger man placed a single hand on his pale cheek to turn him back. But, as soon as his fingers brushed over dry skin, Leon gasped, back arching as much as his worn body allowed. It were as though the touch alone  _hurt._

That in mind, he snatched his hand away with a quick, muttered apology. His ears were ringing with the rush of his blood, and his hands hovered unsure of what to do. Slowly, Leon calmed down, his face relaxed a few notches, but those lines of discomfort remained.

Another grunt, and for the first time since returning, Chris made out a peek of dimmed grey. That was all he needed to witness the lack of focus and lucidity. Leon's lips parted enough for panted breaths, and marginally, his eyes opened wider until his gaze lazily gravitated towards Chris.

"Nice of you to finally join me," he said lightheartedly.

The corner of Leon's mouth merely twitched, but quickly dropped into a grimace. His right hand shakily made its way to his chest. Teeth grit, he grasped at his shirt, knuckles whitening. A few seconds passed before they unfurled.

Leon swallowed, eyes closing tightly with the obvious struggle. "Y-You're back," he whispered hoarsely.

Chris nodded once before realizing the gesture couldn't be seen. "Yeah, I said I would, didn't I?" he hummed in amusement. "And, I see you kept your promise in staying alive...mostly." Despite the fact that he was serious pushing the boundaries of 'alive', but that was a minor detail. "How ya feeling?" Stupid question.

Leon's eyes pulled back open and he stared near blankly at the ceiling. His hand slipped back to his side. "Alive," he said softly. Chris wanted to laugh, but the other's features were set like stone. There wasn't a degree of humor to be spotted. And even he wanted to deny it, but was that  _fear_  he saw tucked under that hardened gaze?

"Well, that's better than nothing 'spose," Chris replied. "He's dead, by the way...Abram." He watched for a reaction, but there was none. Not so much as a falter in his stare. "And the place...it's destroyed. Most of it, anyway."

Leon breathed deeply through his nose, wincing. "Everything's...taken care of, then?" he asked, finally tearing his gaze away to look at the other in the eyes. Chris nodded sharply. "A-And...the…?" he trailed off, but the rest of the question was visible on his lips.

"Virus?" Chris finished for him. "I...I honestly have no idea," he answered truthfully. "It was a gamble," he retrieved the half empty vials and held them in view, "using these. At least, they seemed to have done something. But, I guess we won't know for sure until enough time passes." He carefully set them back aside and Leon's eyes followed.

Chris still couldn't help his attention from occasionally flicking to the other man's neck. Obviously, he hadn't expected the wounds to automatically heal with the administration, but they still appeared just as troubling as before.

"You're not going to like this," he started, grabbing one of the packs from his side, "but Imma have to clean that up." He nodded towards the marred flesh.

If possible, Leon's face paled more, but he gave a nod of confirmation. "Do what you have to."

' _Not like I want to,'_  Chris muttered to himself as he fetched the antiseptic and bandages from his kit. He poured a generous amount on a cloth and hesitated for a split moment before pressing it against the worst of the wounds. As expected, the reaction was not a pleasant one. Leon breathed in sharply, stifling a cry with a disgruntled snarl instead. When he pulled it away, the other was left near-gasping, eyelids fluttering.

"Try not to pass out," he suggested, his air of gruffness slowly settling back in.

As expected, he was met with a sideways glare.

Exactly what he wanted to see: that signature stubbornness. He just had a few more to clean. The rest weren't nearly as bad, his face having the mildest of the ulcers. Though still extreme, his reactions weren't quite as violent.

"I'm almost done," Chris promised, unsure if Leon could still hear him. He was going as fast as he could while still being thorough enough. He didn't know which one was more relieved by the end of it. For a moment, he thought Leon really had passed out until he let out another tight groan.

The hardest part was over. Wrapping it was easier on the both of them. He wrapped the bandages tight enough to keep the wounds well covered, but was careful not to go too tight as to make breathing any more difficult than it had to be. Quickly enough, both shoulder and face were covered as well.

"Better," he breathed out. "I think I already know the answer, but think you can handle drinking a little bit of water?"

As expected, there was a slow, sluggish head shake. Before Chris could press the matter, Leon spoke up. "N-Not at the'moment," he slurred, "m-maybe inna few?"

The disapproval was plain as day on the larger man's face, but he dropped it for now. As long as he was willing to try in the next hour, then fine. But, that didn't mind the idea of resorting to force didn't cross his mind.

"Alright," Chris said, putting everything back away. "For now, I guess you should try to get some rest. We're gonna be here for a while longer, so best to settle in 'til morning."

Leon didn't need to be told twice. It was clear to both of them that he was fighting sleep from the moment he woke up. As he relaxed what little he could, Chris perched himself against the wall near Leon's feet, where he could see his face plainly. In a matter of a few moments, the brunet was out like a light, his breathing evening out with the occasional hitch.

It was steady though.

Reassuring.

Chris leaned his head back and kept a close eye on the time. His eyes glanced to the water he left behind, and it was clear none of it was gone. After an hour, Leon was going to drink something whether he wanted to or not. The infection may have been ebbing away from what he could tell, but there were still other matters that desperately needed tending to.

He watched the seconds tick by; there was nothing else to do as Leon slept. Right on the hour, he was moving. Hand landing on the other man's shoulder, there was an instant pang of guilt, especially when he appeared to be sleeping rather peacefully. But he wasn't willing to take anymore risks.

"Hey…" he said firmly with a gently shake. To his surprise, Leon stirred almost instantly, eyes snapping open, wielding a veil of a panic. "It's fine...it's me." Chris waited as the alarm faded and recognition took over.

Leon blinked blearily. "What issit?" he asked, obviously annoyed.

"You need to drink something."

The brunet tried to turn his head away. "...Like a broken'record," he muttered with a sigh. His eyes cut over when the hovering didn't move, and showed no sign of backing off. "Nottta choice?" he questioned.

"Not a single one."

Defeated, not that there was much of a fight to be had, Leon let out a heavy breath. "Alright, you win." That was all Chris needed to hear to slip an arm under the smaller man's shoulders, who in turn hissed. The assistance was gentle enough until he was mostly sat up. His vision swarmed slightly with the change in elevation, and both gave it time to subside.

When the mouth of the water bottle touched Leon's lips, he cringed slightly, but he still allowed Chris to help him take a sip, and soon he was encouraged to take another.

"That's not nearly enough," Chris informed when he tried to turn his head away after the third. "I'm not a doctor, Leon, but even I can tell how dehydrated you are." The fact that there was a slight fever again and barely a drop of sweat was telling enough. "Either you drink the damn water, or I find another method."

Leon shot daggers at the man, they had dull edges, but they were unmistakably daggers still. After a displeased groan, he managed to drink an acceptable amount, enough to finally put Chris' worry at ease.

"Was that so bad?"

Leon grimaced as he was slowly lowered back down. His nose scrunched as his head was placed down. "The 'ell's that smell?"

"Your vomit all over the floor," Chris answered flatly. "And don't you dare add to it…"

The ex-cop waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah." He took a deep breath, and tensed with the exhale. "How much longer?"

Chris checked the time. "Nearly four," he answered. "We got about 13 more hours here. I called it in, so they're going to try to get here as soon as possible," he assured. "Think you can wait that long?" he smirked slightly.

"Easily." His snarkiness was slowly coming back to him. "But...if you don't mind...I think Imma...take a nap...while I wait." His voice wavered; Chris wondered if it was from exhaustion or pain, or both.

This time, Chris let him sleep, he let him rest late into the evening and as night swiftly approached. The man barely stirred aside from the rare groan or faltering breath. He slept well into the night, nearing morning when something finally roused the man from his light slumber. He awoke to Chris already on his feet. He didn't get a chance to ask what was going on when the larger man looked his way.

"Well, you ready to get out of here?"

Was that a question? There was no need for reply. Chris didn't wait for one when he went to lift the other up.

"I can walk," Leon blurted out, swatting the man's hands away. Chris' brow rose and he folded his arms. He only watched for a moment as the man before him struggled to sit up.

"That's fine and all, but we don't have a week to wait for you to get on your feet," he said, ignoring the protests and hefting Leon to his feet. He was merciful enough to let him retain some sort of dignity, pride he was sure was no more than a thin sheet at this point. He bore the majority of Leon's weight, but he still allowed him to stumble along as he practically dragged him.

Lucky for the both of them, it was a short walk to the clearing. Regardless, Leon was left desperate for breath and he leaned completely against the other, barely on the edge of consciousness. Everything beyond that was a haze for him. He was vaguely aware of being picked up, knew he was being moved around. But the thing that stuck out to him the most was the first breath of fresh air he's felt he had in years.

There was a bunch of murmuring around him; he heard his name a couple times and saw things being passed back and forth. And then a prick stung his arm, snatching him from his dream-like state. He went to sit up, a wave of adrenaline assisting him.

Just as quickly, a pair of strong hands pushed his shoulders back down.

"-eon! Leon, hey, calm down!" His heart slowed at the familiar voice. He blinked, blurred vision clearing up slightly. Chris was sitting next to him, next to a guy with a mask - a doctor, he took it. Right, right, of course, they were getting out of here.

He became aware of the mask over his nose and mouth and the IV currently in his arm. There was too much going on around him to focus on just one thing, so he chose to focus on Chris. Leon held his attention on his face as the others continued to work around him, poking and prodding. They peeled the bandages on his neck and face, finally eliciting a hiss, but he never averted his gaze. As the pain registered, one hand grabbed his and squeezed tightly. Chris gave him a nod and held on until they finished with the wounds.

Leon hadn't realized how tight his own grasp was until an ache ran down his fingers and he forced them to relax. After a few minutes of them being in the air, everything settled down around him, and he was finally able to take a break and soak everything in. He already knew they were in a helicopter, and other than Chris there were two others other than the pilot. Both appeared to be medics.

He took a few more minutes before pulling his hand away from the other. He was sure he'd be fine now, most of the pain had dulled and his breaths were coming much easier. Once he knew he could talk without issue, he muttered, "Hey, Chris?"

Said man hummed, giving Leon his full attention.

There was a pause as words played on the tip of the brunet's tongue. He finally swallowed what was left of his pride and turned his head slightly away.

"Thanks," he muttered under his breath. He cleared his throat uncomfortably "Thanks for...yeah, puttin' your life'on the line." His words still slurred out, and he was starting to wonder what exactly they had in that IV.

He could make out the ghost of a chuckle as things started to fog over. "Well, just doing my job, Kennedy." Everything was starting to jumble together as his mind began to drift. "Just...try not to make a habit of this, if you can help it." There was a hand back on his shoulder, "But...you're welcome. You know, you really did scare the shit out of me." He thought back to that single bullet and shook his head. He still couldn't believe how close he was to doing that. "You got really lucky this time…"

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a bit rusty since it's been a few months since I've written, so things should improve from here. XD


End file.
